your time,” she answered. “I am wet, too.”
He paused, closing his eyes, savoring her words as if they meant something altogether different.
Though it pained him, he remained behind her back to dress. “I’ll stand outside the door while you—”
“Nay, Paul.”
She turned around while he was still shirtless, but to his regret, she kept her gaze on his face.
“We’ve left London. You must stay with me at all times.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “All the time, Juliana?” He glanced pointedly at the closed chamber pot in the corner.
At last he’d coaxed a reaction out of her, as her face flamed red.
“Oh.”
He went to the wall adjoining several of the Bladesmen. He rapped three times, paused, then did it once more.
“What are you doing?”
“I chatted with Joseph today, and he expressed hisconcern about you. I suggested a system to give you privacy, and to give you peace about your assignment as well.”
There was a knock on the door, and then Joseph leaned his head in. “You called, Sir Paul?”
“I’ll be out in a moment.”
After the door had shut, Juliana was watching him, a smile tugging the corners of her lips.
“Very thoughtful of you,” she said. “I believe you are trying to win your way into my good graces.”
Into your bed,
he thought, then chastised himself. But he could torment himself by playing the lady’s maid, if he couldn’t seduce her. He caught her by the shoulders and turned her away from him. Gathering the thick mass of her hair in his hands, he draped it over her shoulder, out of his way.
“What—”
“Your laces are damp. Surely they will not be easy to untie.”
She didn’t even stiffen, simply stood there while he tugged at her garments, slowly pulling the laces apart, revealing the softness of her smock. It, too, was damp and clung to her. Every inch downward, her torso narrowed, and her spine curved inward, leading him slowly but surely toward the swell of her buttocks.
He reached the last of the laces, and he couldn’t move,though he told himself to. His hands spread out until he rested them on her waist. He could hear her breathing, even above his own heartbeat, which thundered in his chest, in his ears. His thumbs stroked her spine as he lowered his head. He could smell the damp sweetness of her skin at her bare neck. When he was but an inch from pressing a kiss to her flesh, forgetting himself, she suddenly stepped away from him.
“My thanks, Paul,” she said, her voice showing no sign that he’d affected her at all. “I believe Joseph is waiting for you.”
He was relieved to escape before doing something he’d regret.
When Paul had gone, Juliana’s entire body sagged, shuddering, as she closed her eyes. Her skin still seemed to tingle, to hum, where he’d touched her.
What was wrong with her? Many men had touched her, adjusting her position with the bow, demonstrating grappling techniques. She’d rolled around on the ground with men, for God’s sake. Yet … all Paul had to do was span her waist with his large hands, making her feel so delicate, so feminine, and she’d turned into mush.
She liked these feelings too much—and she despised herself for them. Having always thought of herself as a strong person, mere days with Paul were showing her otherwise.
She was forced to gather herself together when someone knocked on the door, but didn’t identify themselves in the League manner. She slid her dagger out of her boot, and positioned herself against the wall, calling, “Aye, who goes there?”
A woman’s voice said, “Servants, milady, with the bath yer lordship ordered.”
They hadn’t used titles, but Paul’s very demeanor made all think him of the nobility. And now he was proving himself a thoughtful gentleman—for show or in reality? She didn’t know or care.
“Enter.”
She remained near to the door, the dagger hidden in her skirts, her unlaced back against the wall. Carrying two steaming buckets, a woman
He paused, closing his eyes, savoring her words as if they meant something altogether different.
Though it pained him, he remained behind her back to dress. “I’ll stand outside the door while you—”
“Nay, Paul.”
She turned around while he was still shirtless, but to his regret, she kept her gaze on his face.
“We’ve left London. You must stay with me at all times.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “All the time, Juliana?” He glanced pointedly at the closed chamber pot in the corner.
At last he’d coaxed a reaction out of her, as her face flamed red.
“Oh.”
He went to the wall adjoining several of the Bladesmen. He rapped three times, paused, then did it once more.
“What are you doing?”
“I chatted with Joseph today, and he expressed hisconcern about you. I suggested a system to give you privacy, and to give you peace about your assignment as well.”
There was a knock on the door, and then Joseph leaned his head in. “You called, Sir Paul?”
“I’ll be out in a moment.”
After the door had shut, Juliana was watching him, a smile tugging the corners of her lips.
“Very thoughtful of you,” she said. “I believe you are trying to win your way into my good graces.”
Into your bed,
he thought, then chastised himself. But he could torment himself by playing the lady’s maid, if he couldn’t seduce her. He caught her by the shoulders and turned her away from him. Gathering the thick mass of her hair in his hands, he draped it over her shoulder, out of his way.
“What—”
“Your laces are damp. Surely they will not be easy to untie.”
She didn’t even stiffen, simply stood there while he tugged at her garments, slowly pulling the laces apart, revealing the softness of her smock. It, too, was damp and clung to her. Every inch downward, her torso narrowed, and her spine curved inward, leading him slowly but surely toward the swell of her buttocks.
He reached the last of the laces, and he couldn’t move,though he told himself to. His hands spread out until he rested them on her waist. He could hear her breathing, even above his own heartbeat, which thundered in his chest, in his ears. His thumbs stroked her spine as he lowered his head. He could smell the damp sweetness of her skin at her bare neck. When he was but an inch from pressing a kiss to her flesh, forgetting himself, she suddenly stepped away from him.
“My thanks, Paul,” she said, her voice showing no sign that he’d affected her at all. “I believe Joseph is waiting for you.”
He was relieved to escape before doing something he’d regret.
When Paul had gone, Juliana’s entire body sagged, shuddering, as she closed her eyes. Her skin still seemed to tingle, to hum, where he’d touched her.
What was wrong with her? Many men had touched her, adjusting her position with the bow, demonstrating grappling techniques. She’d rolled around on the ground with men, for God’s sake. Yet … all Paul had to do was span her waist with his large hands, making her feel so delicate, so feminine, and she’d turned into mush.
She liked these feelings too much—and she despised herself for them. Having always thought of herself as a strong person, mere days with Paul were showing her otherwise.
She was forced to gather herself together when someone knocked on the door, but didn’t identify themselves in the League manner. She slid her dagger out of her boot, and positioned herself against the wall, calling, “Aye, who goes there?”
A woman’s voice said, “Servants, milady, with the bath yer lordship ordered.”
They hadn’t used titles, but Paul’s very demeanor made all think him of the nobility. And now he was proving himself a thoughtful gentleman—for show or in reality? She didn’t know or care.
“Enter.”
She remained near to the door, the dagger hidden in her skirts, her unlaced back against the wall. Carrying two steaming buckets, a woman
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