It was true. She knew why he was there. The knowledge made her heart beat faster.
“Yes,” she finally managed to say. “I suppose I do know why you’re here.”
“I didn’t expect to find a mermaid in my tub, but I’m pleasantly surprised—no, don’t turn shy on me now. It’s too late for that. Clear water doesn’t hide much.” He put his hand beneath her chin, and pulled her face gently back to him as she drew her knees toward her chest.
He was being gentle, not harsh or aggressive, and she fought the urge to leap from the tub.
“Please,” she said, her voice a shaky whisper. “I’m not—please leave me alone.”
“Ah no, you don’t mean that.” Long fingers shifted, traced a path along her jaw. She shivered, and he smiled. “You know you don’t mean that, my pretty lady.”
“I do, oh, yes, I do.…”
But there was no time for more denials, for forming proper refusals. He was leaning closer, his face so near she felt the heat from him. It was all so confusing, so strange. It didn’t seem at all improper for him to kiss her, his mouth lingering on her lips, moving then to her earlobe to blow softly and make her shiver again, and all the while the hot scented water enveloping her like a blanket.
“Such a pleasant surprise,” he murmured against her ear while his hand moved over her shoulder down to her breast, “to find a beautiful mermaid in my tub.”
“I didn’t plan to surprise you, I only wanted a bath. Oh, no…don’t do that.…”
“This?” His hand had slipped beneath the water to cup her breast in his palm, fingers tugging at her nipple. It was erotic, arousing, and she began to tremble. Any shreds of resistance she still possessed were fading. There was a steamy sensuality to the moment that was inevitable, as if she had only been waiting for the right moment to arrive, as if she had waited for him all her life. Perhaps she had in a way, though the reasons were all tangled up with so many other emotions that she couldn’t unravel them right now. All she could do was feel.
It was a relief not to think, to allow him to make the decision for her.
He was kissing her again, his hands moving over her body in seductive exploration, slipping beneath the water to caress her breasts, then move between her thighs, slow and so exciting…cool air and heated water. The sensuous stroke of his hands over that aching, melting pulse sent spears of white-hot reaction through her so that she arched upward, her arms curling around his neck as he kept kissing her.
Somehow he was in the water with her, holding her against him while his mouth was on her breasts, his lips and tongue teasing her nipples until she moaned restlessly. It was so intensely erotic and arousing, the silky feel of hot water lapping about their bodies while his hands touched and teased, slid back between her thighs to the soft inner folds to summon such sweet, wild reaction that she suddenly clutched at him with both hands, fingers slipping on his wet skin, his hard muscled a
rms sliding beneath her palms as she grasped wildly at him.
“Oh God oh God,” she said over and over, a panting plea that he seemed to understand when she wasn’t certain she did. She arched into his hands, moaning softly as his strokes created a growing tension that was exciting, an elusive promise that seemed to hover just out of reach. She wanted to close her eyes, but she didn’t. Instead she stared up at him as her body responded to his erotic caresses, watched the muscled curves of his chest and shoulders flex, powerful yet somehow more vulnerable than she’d ever dreamed. Then the tension burst into searing release that took her beyond the moment into a shuddering oblivion that seemed endless.
Drifting, she was only vaguely aware that she still clung to him, her arms loose around his neck as his mouth found hers in another kiss.
Then he was on his knees, straddling her, lean and dark and so intent, his hands beneath her hips to lift her slightly so that her legs were on each side of him and he fit between her thighs. The hard, thick shaft of his erection replaced his hands, caressing her intimate folds as he slid it across that aching point of sweet pleasure, summoning another shudder and soft cry from her. Her fingers opened and closed on his shoulders. The muscles beneath her hands shook with strain as he braced himself against the edge of the tub, his hands on each side of her head, his gaze dark blue and hot as he watched her.
His breath was harsh and swift, contradicting the slow torment as he moved up and over her, slipping easily through the water to push against her. A dull pressure increased between her legs as he leaned forward, sliding inside the tiniest bit, a surprising invasion.
Even more surprising, he didn’t press harder, but pulled back after a moment. He paused, then moved again, slowly pressing forward, the scented water slapping around them. Instinctively she arched into the pressure.
“Christ,” he muttered, “don’t move, love. Not yet.”
With her hands still on his shoulders, slipping a little on his damp skin, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the unfamiliar sensations that coursed through her body. It was nothing like she’d thought, nothing like she’d told Caro. This was so different, more of an inevitability than a natural instinct.
It was encompassing, a sweeping away of everything she’d always expected, the reality much more overwhelming than the imagined.…
He kissed her again, then slid his arms beneath her to lift her as if she was no more than a doll, rising from the tub with her against his chest, water dripping on the floor.
Celia shuddered as cool air whisked over her naked body; she was so hot where his body pressed against her, and so cold where it did not.
“What are you…My lord, where are we going?”
He spoke to her softly, his breath warm against her cheek as he carried her across the room to another door. It didn’t lead to her chamber, but to another chamber that she knew must be his own, for it was very masculine, with heavy furniture and rich, dark draperies over the bed.
“You’re shivering. I’m going to get you warm. No, it’s all right…no one will bother us, love. Here…”
He’d put her on his bed and followed her down, his body over hers now, thick velvet beneath her, cushioning her as tremors made her body quake. Gently, as if tending an invalid, he drew the velvet covers over her, cradling her next to him as she shook uncontrollably. It wasn’t the cold, but reaction that made her tremble. Celia started to tell him that but he didn’t give her the chance.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly as he tucked the velvet around her, “so you don’t need to be afraid.”