Carolyne Cathey by The Wager

that hateful comment?  Surely, not
she.  Embarrassed, she let her mouth fall open.
    Lord Kyle
grinned, and Eleanor's heart stumbled over its own beat. 
    Half naked, he
glowed in the fire's light, a few damp curls in disarray on his forehead.  He
leaned down to pick up the errant weapon, then stood again and nodded. 
    "Aye.  She's
ample.  But I'd not fall asleep in too much haste, I promise you that." 
With humor in his eyes, he sauntered toward her.  He seemed to emerge from the
fire that leapt behind him, a shadowed silhouette against the light.  
"Are you jealous, Eleanor?"
    Her heart picked
up its rhythm.  "Nay.  I only warn you so that you don't suffocate if she
pulls you to her bosom."
    Lord Kyle
laughed.  "You lie, woman."  He stopped in front of her, legs apart,
hand on hips, the broad planes of his chest revealed for her eyes to feast
upon.  "What happened to your honesty?"
    What, indeed? 
Heat burned her face.  At least he no longer appeared somber.  Confused by her
reaction, she determined to change the subject.  "Let's have this bath of
yours over and done with."  Then a different temptation enticed her.  His
bath.  Her hands on his body.  Her desire. 
    Well, curse.
    He pulled over a
stool, then sat, a lop-sided grin on his sensual face.
    Else she melted
into a puddle at his feet, Eleanor knew she must ignore her wanton responses to
his every movement.   After all, Lord Kyle had seen her naked body, fairness
demanded she see his.  The thought jolted her pulse.  At the convent, the only
male she had known was the old gardener, and he had never sauntered about
naked.  Yet, how different could a man's body be?  So far, except for her
breasts and Lord Kyle's muscles, they were much the same, part-wise.
    He held up a
booted foot.
    Eleanor tugged at
the leather and placed the shoe on the floor.  His chausses.  Surely he didn't
mean for her to remove the woolen hose from his legs. 
    She glanced up at
him and he nodded. 
    With a lump in
her throat, Eleanor studied his chausses to see how they might be attached. 
Her hand trembled as she slid her icy fingers up his wool-covered leg to
mid-thigh where his hose disappeared under the hem of his braies.  She halted. 
Perhaps he should remove his braies first, before his hose.  Or, perhaps not,
for then he would be even more naked.  However, his complete nudity was the
goal.  Heavens have mercy.
    Eleanor didn't
look at his eyes.  She couldn't.  "I don't know how to do this, my lord. 
I don't know how---"
    Lord Kyle grasped
one leg of his linen undergarment and pulled it up his muscled thigh, which
unveiled even more of his desirable body to her curious gaze.  Sparse hairs
glinted copper atop creamy skin. 
    "My hose are
fastened by tabs to a hidden belt, as are my braies."
    Eleanor bit her
lip.  She would have to touch him again to release the tabs.  Did her touch
burn him as his touch had seared her?  She knew she stared, but her eyes were
drawn to his flesh as a flower to the sun. 
    "You are a
grown man, Sire.  You should undress yourself." 
    "Aye.  But I
wish you to undress me."
    The throbs of her
pulse leapt into her ears.  Eleanor shook her head.  "'Tisn't right.  At
the convent, I overheard ladies say that maidens are not required to tend to a
man's bath.  Your squire should bathe---"
    "He's
dead."  Anger shoved out with his words.  "Killed in an ambush as I
returned from Wales.  I've yet to replace him."
    Detecting the
agony in his tone, she raised her gaze to his face, curious to know more about
his past, his hurts, his sorrows. 
    He stared over
her shoulder as if into another time, another place, sadness in his clouded
eyes.  He sighed.  Then his gaze met hers and arrogance curved his mouth. 
    "Perhaps
Beth won't mind the task."
    Eleanor wanted to
appear untouched by his attempt to rile her, yet she realized she narrowed her
eyes and clenched her jaw anyway. "Beth may also be untouched, my
lord."
    "Aye.