Her gown fell to the floor. She shivered, even though she didn’t feel cold.
“Daisy,” Charlie whispered.
“Y-yes?”
“You are beautiful, you know.”
Her breath seemed to stop. “Thank you,” she whispered back.
And then she realized he must be able to see her figure outlined on the screen by the fire behind her. She tried to look through the screen to see him, but she couldn’t. She could feel him, though. His presence filled the room.
Carefully, she ascended a little stool and slipped into the tub.
“Oh, this feels good,” she said.
“I’m glad,” he answered back.
She closed her eyes, and for a few minutes, there was nothing but a comfortable quiet. Charlie turning his pages. The fire, lapping at the peat and logs.
This bath really was what she’d needed. She’d worked hard today. And fought hard, as well. Her limbs ached.
When she reached for the soap, the sound of water droplets seemed to echo loudly through the room. She ran the soap down her arm. And then the other. And submerged her arms again, reveling in the sensation of warmth and the lavender-scented bar.
But she no longer heard pages turning.
She sat for a moment longer.
“Charlie?” she called softly.
“Yes?” he replied.
She laughed. “I—I thought you might have fallen asleep.”
“No,” he said.
But his voice sounded almost too serious. Actually, tortured was a better word.
She blinked in the sudden knowledge that he—
Well, he was sitting on the other side of the screen, wasn’t he? And he knew she was on this side, stark naked …
“Charlie,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Can’t you—can’t you come round the screen?”
There was another long silence.
“No,” he finally replied.
“But I want you,” she whispered. “I want what we had last night. And on the Stone Steps.” She waved her hands through the steaming water, making small ripples.
There was another silence.
“We still can,” he said. “In a way.”
She stopped moving her hands through the water. “How?”
“Simply remember us together. And your body will do the rest.”
She was intrigued, and without thinking, ran the soap over her breasts. A dart of pleasure flickered between her legs, and she wanted him to come to her.
So badly.
“Charlie,” she whispered, hearing the plaintive need in her own voice.
“I want you, too,” he said. “Very much. But you yourself said we can’t have each other that way tonight.”
“It’s not fair,” she said.
“Fair has nothing to do with it. But you can lean back, Daisy, and shut your eyes. Let your body take over.”
She sighed with frustration—but also with pleasure at the thought of their being together. “What will you do?”
“The same. But you have to promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“No matter what, you won’t stop imagining until you’re—” He hesitated.
“Until I’m what?” she asked breathily.
“Until you’re satisfied,” he said.
Satisfied.
She touched her stomach and let her hands reach to the curls between her legs. Charlie had kissed her there three times now. She ached for him to do it again.
“I—I promise.” She licked her lower lip and felt her legs fall apart.
“Think of me,” he said again. “And I’ll be wishing I were with you—the way we were last night.”
She heard his boots come off. And then he tossed his breeches over the top of the screen. And finally, his shirt wound up there, as well.
“You’re naked,” she whispered.
“I know.” His voice was rough. “And I’m staying right here. With you. Watching you. Pretend I’m touching you, Daisy.”
She’d never felt so wanton. Never felt so heavy with desire, immersed as she was in the water, which touched every part of her like a kiss.
Silence reigned once again, and then she sighed out loud, her breathing coming faster as her hands roamed her body and she thought of Charlie.
“Are you still watching?” she said.
“I can’t … I can’t keep my eyes off the screen.”
“I want you,” she whispered.
“I want you, too.”
“I—I’m going to—” And then her body arched like a rainbow over the water. “Charlie,” she moaned as she crested in a wave of sensual pleasure—and sank back down, her mind drifting, even as her body did, cocooned by the warmth of the water and the knowledge that she was discovering new depths—and a tender passion—with her viscount.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A week later, Charlie opened one eye and saw Daisy curled next to him, sleeping peacefully. No wonder she hadn’t woken yet. Yesterday had been another long day with the visitors, a large part of it spent indoors because of rain. And it was followed by another heady night of passion between them which demanded to be sated several times over.
As if she knew she were being watched by him, Daisy opened her eyes and smiled. “It’s a braw, bricht day, I can tell already,” she said. “It has to be. Tonight’s the ceilidh.”
When she looked at him then, with all that happiness and hope shining in her eyes, he realized something very important: he loved her. He loved everything about her.
The knowledge shook him to the core.
But he couldn’t think about it now. The feeling was too precious. He must savor it alone today. Explore what it meant.
“As it’s our last day at the Keep,” he said, “I think I’ll go fishing. Alone.”
“Alone?”
He nodded. “I have some thinking to do.”
“About what?”
He kissed her. “Life, I suppose. And how magical it can be when you’re sleeping with the same beautiful woman every night.”
Daisy sighed. “I don’t know how I could have survived the past week without our nights together.”
“You’ve had some shocking news to digest. Who ever would have thought your worst enemy would turn out to be your very own sister?”
She grinned. “I know. The Fates have a diabolical sense of humor, don’t they? Along those lines, I can’t help thinking it would be perfect if Mr. King proposed to Cassandra tonight. He’d take her away to America. And I’d never have to worry about seeing her again. I suppose I should be sad, as she’s my sister, but I’m not. We’re still not talking. Except for this odd comment she made to me days ago about my needing to buy myself a nicer gown. It wasn’t exactly spiteful sounding. It was almost as if … she wanted me to have a pretty frock.” She bit her lip. “I’m sure I misunderstood her. But there’s a chance I didn’t, of course, and the truth is—I want her to have a pretty frock, too. For tonight. Every woman should look beautiful.”
“Including yourself,” said Charlie. “Do you have a new gown?”
“No.”
Charlie sighed. “You should get one.”
“Too late,” she said nonchalantly, then sat up on her elbows. Much to Charlie’s delight, she forgot to pull up the covers, exposing her beautiful, pert breasts to the morning light.
“Oh, dear,” she whispered.
“Oh, dear, is right,” Charlie answered her. He leaned down and kissed her neck. “Somehow I can’t think about your new sister at the moment. Or your lack of new gown, as much as that dismays me. I want to talk about us. You’ve made me the most creative lover in the world.”
“Have I?”
“Indeed you have.” He ran a hand over her silken breast. “We’ve been sleeping together—”
“We’ve done more than sleep together—”
“Yes, for over a week now. I believe we win a prize for showing incredible ingenuity and forbearance. You’re as virgin as you ever were.”
“What’s the prize?”
He whispered in her ear.
“Oh, I adore that notion!” She grinned again. “Remember the night we weren’t allowed to touch each other?”
“How could I forget? It was all your fault, by the way.”
“What you’re suggesting now is even more torturous!”
“And you love it.”
She pulled him closer until they were nose to nose. “I do.”
It was hard to believe the days had flown by so fast, and their guests appeared to be more enthralled with the Highlands than ever. The village had outdone itself in welcoming their visitors by heaping lavish attention upon them at the Keep, on the hunt, and at the games which followed.
And through it all, Mr. King had spent every moment he could with Cassandra.
At the hunt, Mr. King brought home the largest buck, but Cassandra hadn’t appeared to be impressed. He’d also participated in all of the games afterward … the caber tossing, stone lifting, and speed races, and won his share of glory. But Cassandra merely watched all the proceedings with a smug smile and showed no apparent favor to him whatsoever, which only served to pique his interest in her more.
“Do you think Cassandra favors him?” Daisy asked Charlie now.
“I think she might. I got my first inkling of that yesterday.”
Daisy sucked in a breath. “Do you really think so?”
Charlie shrugged. “She allowed him to walk her home from the village. You know what happened to us on that walk home.”
Daisy blushed. “The Stone Steps. But surely Cassandra wouldn’t—”
“Wouldn’t be so … wanton?” He kissed her nose.
“Yes,” she said, and pushed him playfully away.
“Well, whatever happened on the way home, she spoke to him all through dinner.”
Daisy bit her lip. “I really think she likes him.”
“Did she say much else?”
“No. Although she blurted out that she thinks he’s very, very rich. What do you think that means?”
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