That truth speared through his heart. Hoarsely he said, “Then I will gladly take what time we have.”
“As will I.” Her voice was thick and her gaze averted from his as she slipped the red cloak from her shoulders. She wore only her father’s medallion around her neck, and it was if she shoved Aerax’s head underwater into the healing heat, stealing the breath from his lungs and the sense from his brain.
Nudity was nothing. Regularly Kothans shared public bathhouses and sweat huts. Yet Lizzan’s nudity was everything. No other woman had Aerax ever looked at and imagined touching her bare flesh or suckling her soft nipples to hardness. Yet with Lizzan, he saw all the places where she might be pleasured. And there were so many. So many that he’d already touched and kissed. So many that he already knew would make her sigh and moan and beg.
There, there . . . and there.
As she stepped into the bath, his eyes worshiped every span of her skin, every lean muscle, every soft curve. She had changed in the ten years since he’d last seen her so fully exposed. More pale scars knitted her flesh, more curls grew between her thighs, more generous were her hips.
And from head to toe, she was still perfection.
Though she must not feel so. She settled into the water with a pained groan, then sank deeper and tipped her head back, until only her face was above the surface. Her eyes squeezed shut. “My skull feels as if it is about to crack.”
Frowning his concern, Aerax moved nearer. “Did you fall?”
She slitted open an eye. “Do I seem so drunk?”
“As much mead as you’ve had, you shouldn’t be able to walk.” And he had watched her closely enough to know. “Instead you seemed more sober with every sip.”
“I am paying for that sobriety now.” She laughed, and the water rippled around her face. “I will tell you a secret, but you cannot tell the Parsatheans. One day I might challenge them to a drinking contest and I prefer to win.”
He preferred that she won, too. “Tell me.”
“I was nearly full drunk at the temple. But the priestess said she would purify everything that passed between my lips . . . and so all that mead became water.”
Aerax grinned. “Truly?”
“Truly.” Lizzan laughed again, then groaned as if it hurt her. Tenderly Aerax cupped the back of her head, began massaging her temples with his fingertips, and she sighed. “This feels so fine.”
Better than fine. Touching her felt like more than he deserved. His chest tight with emotion, Aerax told her, “Then lie still until your head no longer hurts.”
“I will.” Though she apparently did not intend to lie quietly. “You have been making use of the battle masters at the palace.”
The tutors who taught the royals a warrior’s skill and were always available to give lessons or to train with them. “Why do you say that?”
“You blocked Uland’s fist. But that sort of combat is not something we practiced together.” An impish smile curved her lips and she peeked up at him. “And the size of you. You have always been strong, but thick arms and a broad chest do not merely come from palace feasts. You must practice with them often.”
“There is little else to do.” And hot pleasure rushed through his veins, knowing that she had looked his body over as closely as Aerax had hers. “If you like, I will let you examine all of me so you might measure what is bigger than it used to be. There is one part in particular that swells every time you are near.”
She snickered. “I would suggest the part that swells the most is your head. But as your skull does not grow, we know your brains cannot be bigger.”
“It is not my brains,” he agreed, his heart light within his chest and his cock heavy between his thighs. “After years of palace lessons, they are smaller than before.”
“I would not say so.”
“No? What would you say, then? Tell me at length how clever I am.”
Her brow arched. “I also would not call you ‘clever.’”
A fair point, which he acknowledged with a soft grunt.
Smiling, she closed her eyes again. “And your other royal lessons?”
“I fail them all.”
“Do you put in any effort?”
“I put in effort to avoid them. They would teach me how to dance and chew and smile, so that I might be a prettier prop. They teach me nothing