Nic had a hard time keeping a straight face. “Nay, he’ll be fine, I think. However, I’ll consider your offer for future reference. As to my man there, just a bath and some rest are all he’ll need.”
The boy cupped his hand over the right side of his mouth and whispered. “Perhaps, my lord, he needs a few riding lessons, too?”
Nic laughed, the warm sound of it resonating through the small room and sliding over Morgan’s skin. “You just might be right about those lessons, lad,” Nic said, then clasped the teenager on the shoulder.
Morgan, listening to the exchange, didn’t take offense. What could she say? He was right. A few riding lessons were in order. Perhaps Nic would train her if she asked him nicely. He wasn’t a total brute. In fact, he was far from it. Other than the tirade in the woods, which she fully understood, he was actually very civil.
“I’ll be back for the used water in just a while, my lord.”
“Here’s your coin and thank you for your services. You’ve done well. Now, off with ya, lad, to tend the animals. We’ve ridden them hard today,” Nic said before he closed the door behind the young man.
When the door was closed tightly, Morgan turned to face her traveling companion. Her eyes slid past Nic to look longingly at the hot bathwater. Nic noticed and didn’t blame her. The steaming water was like a siren but her well-being came first.
“Morgan, you must bathe quickly. I’ll go get us food. Don’t open this door for anyone except me. You understand?”
Morgan answered him with a nod.
“Five minutes, no more, that’s all the time you have. I’ll be back shortly.”
He turned on his heels and left the room.
Morgan bolted the door. Peeling off her sopping clothes and having only five minutes, she didn’t bother to wring them out before laying them by the fire to dry.
She sighed as she eased into the tub. The warm water felt heavenly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had the luxury of taking a hot bath. Five minutes wasn’t enough, but it would have to do; after all, it was five more minutes than she had experienced in the last seven years.
As she quickly bathed, she took in her surroundings. The inn was clean and seemed well run. The room consisted of meager furnishings of a country inn. They served the purpose and Morgan was certainly not going to complain. Compared to her tower room, this was an abundance of luxury.
Placed close to the rare fireplace with an actual working chimney were two chairs and a table at which two could comfortably eat. There was a single stool that had seen better days. The bed, Morgan noticed, was narrow. With Nic’s size, it would be a tight fit for him, much less both of them. She was finding the thought of sleeping with him in the close confines of the room discomforting. Toweling off when the knock came, Morgan had mistimed her bath by just a half of a minute.
“Nic?” Morgan softly questioned through the door.
“Aye, lad.”
“Give me a minute,” she whispered. “I need to cover myself.”
Nic sensed her movements in the room, and for a moment, he allowed his imagination to take him to a place that he knew better than to go. He imagined her as she was at the pool: naked, beautiful, and his.
Morgan quickly gathered the bedcover and wrapped herself in it, then unbolted the door and stood behind it to let him enter.
He entered, not sure what he would find when he quickly took stock of the room. Her clothes were neatly spread by the fire to dry. The tub’s water was now used. What was even more evident was Morgan wrapped only in a sheet.
Oh my. And that was about all the coherent thought he could muster.
He wasn’t some young pup who couldn’t control his urges, but she was making it difficult the longer he was around her. He dared not linger, not at the moment, especially knowing she was clean and naked under that wrapping. He needed to allow her to dress without his prying eyes.
“I have found some dry clothes for you, lad.” He placed them in the chair and continued. “I’m going back down to see if there’s any food I can scrounge. If not, I’ll go to the horses for some of our rations. Either way, I’ll not be long. Bolt the door behind me.”
“Thank you for the bath. I know you didn’t have to do that for me.” She was very genuine, recognizing that as she was a squire, Nic didn’t have to see to that small luxury for her.
His proud smile surprised her as their gaze held each other for a brief second. “Aye, Morgan, I did. And, I did so gladly, but you’re welcome all the same.”
Chapter 15
Making quick work of binding her breasts and dressing in the clothes Nic had so thoughtfully found, she recognized his steps coming up the stairs.
“It’s I, lad.” His deep voice eased through the door.
She unbolted then opened the door. He entered carrying a tray of food that smelled delicious. She took the tray and set it down on the table as she deeply breathed in the hearty aroma. As she rearranged the food for them and poured the wine, she heard the rustle of clothing behind her and the soggy flop of them hitting the floor.
Was he undressing? Of course, you silly girl. He’s not letting the opportunity of a warm bath pass by him any more than you would have let it bypass you, she mentally scolded herself.
She realized that he thought she was a boy so, of course, he would be undressing.
Morgan heard his involuntary sigh escape his lips, and she knew he had silently slipped into the warm water. She wondered as his squire how she could help him with his personal needs. He answered that question almost before the thought was completely formed.
“Morgan, come here and wash my hair, please.”
She was behind him, so he couldn’t see her face. He heard rather than saw her back into the table.
“Oh, bloody hell,” she whispered, then caught the decanter she had nearly knocked over in her retreat.
“Come now, surely you knew you’d have to aid me with my personal needs? And right now, I need you to wash the grime out of my hair. Hurry, the water will cool soon, and I’ve had enough cold water on me for one day.”
His command wasn’t abrupt, but Morgan was left in little doubt that she was to follow that order.
Tossing caution to the wind, Morgan placed her hands on his head.
It’s just hair, she told herself.
Kneeling at the end of the tub, she gently began to massage his scalp with the coarse cake of soap he had handed her. To counter the way she was feeling, she forced herself to think about the past, not what she was doing.
After the death of her father, the only man she had been this close to was her uncle, and that situation was never pleasant. Until three days ago, when she had taken the spill off the horse, her uncle was the only person to touch her in the last seven years. Morgan tightly closed her eyes against those memories.
She had slept two nights next to this man, had ridden pressed to his body for hours on a horse, and now she was washing his hair while he sat naked in this makeshift tub, which was actually more a deep watering trough. Her initial reaction of uncertainty had given way to curiosity, and she allowed herself to explore further. He was naked in a bathtub, and his sword was across the room. What could he possibly do?
His thick and silky hair rolled through her fingers like the beautifully soft satin ribbons she remembered having as a child. Rubbing his temples and smoothing his brow from the center of his forehead outwards released a flood of memories that she had long buried. Morgan saw her mother doing this to her father while he sat with his eyes closed in his great chair before the fire. Nic was doing much the same.
“My mamma used to do this for my da,” she said absently as she moved onto the crown of his head and ran her short nails gently against his scalp. A groan was the byproduct. Gasping, she quickly tried to pull her hands away, but he grabbed her wrists to stop her retreat, heedless of the water he splashed on the floor in the process.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she apologized.
“You didn?
??t hurt me, Morgan,” he said reassuring her. “That was a moan of contentment. It seems to be soothing my headache.”
His grip loosened on her, and he leaned his head back against the rim of the tub. It was far too small for a man of his enormous size. She continued to soap his hair, massaging his scalp. Then, when clean, she rinsed it with water left by the groom for just such a purpose. Nic leaned forward in the small tub, slopping water on the floor and exposing his broad back for Morgan’s inspection. She assumed that he wanted her to wash his back, too.
His skin was smooth, tan, and free of any major scars. The few she did see stood out in sharp, white contrast to the tan of the rest of his back. They were scars from many battles, but none threatening, even to her untrained eye.
“You’ve been lucky, my lord,” she commented.
“Thus far, aye, yes, I have.” Nic understood what she was saying.
She could see through the murky water a whiter line of skin marking where his breeks hugged and covered his hips, guarding them from the sun. As she continued her ministrations, her body was responding. Her inexperience kept her from realizing the warning signs in him or herself as she continued to touch him out of curiosity as much as necessity.
Nic felt the butterfly touches of her inexperienced hands. He felt the heat coming off her body as she leaned in close to do his bidding. He leaned back in the tub and rested his arms on the narrow rim, then closed his eyes. His legs were so long he had to pull his knees up to fit into the tub. It wasn’t enough to hide him from her view.
She was beautiful and he wanted her. It was that simple. He wanted to make love to her more than any other woman he had ever taken to his bed. He purposely allowed her to look at him in his state of full arousal, wanting her to see what she did for him. It would come in handy down the line. She wasn’t going to be pleased that he knew she was a duchess and had kept that knowledge from her.
“Oh, now, that’s just rude, sir,” she gasped and tried to advert her eyes, yet she was curious all the same as she tossed the washcloth over him. It only served to become a tent pole.
Nic softly laughed, “Rude or not, there you have it, a little barrack for all my soldiers.”
Morgan shook her head. “You’re impossible, sir.”
Fully aware of her needs as a woman, he could make love to her in this roadside inn. Her seduction would be child’s play.
However, it was too dangerous. So, carnal needs would have to wait. His top priority was getting her to safety and having sex with her would come later. Yet he wasn’t made of stone and knew he had to salvage this quickly.
“Never mind me,” he said casually with the wave of his hand. “You know how it is sometimes for us men when we fantasize about a beautiful woman. As you can see, the physical effects can be hard to disguise. Now, hurry, lad, and get me a cloth to dry. The bath has grown cold even if I’ve not.” Nic laughed at his pun, knowing he was far from cold for this woman.
She felt quick pangs of jealously rise at the thought of him fantasizing about another woman. Trying to act as unaffected as possible, she quipped before thinking. “Well, sir, might I suggest you do your fantasizing in private. I’ve no wish to see that thing pointing the way to the northern star,” Morgan said.
Nic laughed in delight and relief. “Well put, Morgan. Verray well put.”
Morgan had no right to be angry that he was thinking of his woman. Undoubtedly, she would be tiny, blonde, and full breasted; no feminine characteristics Morgan could ever claim to have in her possession. For the first time feelings of inadequacy filtered to the surface, having never really cared before that she had no curves.
She quickly scrambled to her feet to fetch Nic a towel. Rising in one swift movement from the tub, he towered above her with the water sliding off his lethal body.
With towel in hand, she watched in fascination as a single drop made a slow and treacherous journey from his shoulder to his hip. Embarrassed at her own behavior, Morgan avoided his gaze as he took the towel from her just before she turned back to the fire.
Laying his clothes beside hers to dry, Morgan turned her attention to the table as if it were the most interesting item in the world. Nic was behind her. She could feel him, sense him, yet he hadn’t touched her. She almost wished he would.
Nic reached out his hand to touch her, but then he smartly pulled back. Thank goodness his better judgment had taken over. Had he touched her, Nic wouldn’t have stopped with a kiss and that would have been like opening Pandora’s box.
“Where are your clothes?” Morgan asked as Nic made his way to the table and sat down opposite her.
“All clothes in my pack are wet, and I was unable to find a set of dry clothes that fit. I’ll just stay as I am until the fire has dried my own.”
He had no wish to put the sopping garments back on, not when he had just begun to feel human again. He would dress in the morning and pray he didn’t have to fight naked with an enemy. One loose sword was enough.
Nodding and keeping her eyes averted, Morgan had a suspicion that her feelings would show in her face if she looked. Her desire to inspect his unclothed body was strong with curiosity, and it was driving her mad.
She was very quiet again, and Nic could guess the reason. He knew she wanted to look, and perversely, it stroked his male pride.
“Morgan, I know you can speak. You’ve done so on several occasions. Please, feel free to do so now. I usually don’t like having my woman seen and not heard. The same goes for my squire,” Nic said, catching his mistake. “You may speak your mind when and how you choose. I’ll not insult, beat, or run you through for having an opinion or wishing to carry on conversation with me. It would make for a verray dull or verray deadly existence for both of us.”
Before Morgan could answer, a knock came at the door. Nic caught her momentary sharp intake of breath and her look of panic.
“Nic?” she questioned. Her voice was rough from surprise and maybe a little fear.
“It’s all right, lad. It’s the boy coming back after the water. Quickly hop into bed, turn your back to the door, and cover up as much as possible,” he whispered, running his hand down the side of her face in reassurance before turning her to the bed. If she noticed the gesture as odd for a man touching a boy, she kept it to herself. More than likely, it didn’t register through the spike of adrenaline running through her system, resulting from the fear of being discovered with him unarmed and nearly naked.
He remedied the unarmed part by picking up his sword before answering the door. Nic knew it paid to be careful.
Morgan giggled at the sight of her knight’s only armor being an old bedsheet.
She quickly did as she was told just as Nic opened the door to allow the boy and two others to come remove the dirty water.
“He’s better, my lord?” the boy asked keeping his voice lowered as the girls left with pails in both hands.
“Aye, he is,” Nic said then smiled with good nature. “A warm bath and dry clothes are doing wonders for his disposition. He’s sleeping more naturally. All in all we were lucky. I think he’ll be fine to get on the road come morning.”
“What are ye instructions for me, sir,” the boy asked respectfully.
“We shall break our fast at four and take our leave before the sun is up.”
“As ye wish, sir. I’ll have the horses ready for ye.”
“Good. Do just that and I’ll have another coin for you. Now, be a good lad and run along.”
The boy eased out the door, taking the remainder of the dirty water with him along with a story to tell his grandchildren.
Nic closed the door softly behind him. Throwing the bolt, he turned back to Morgan just as she rolled over.
Nic guarded his expression.
It’s just as well that Morgan can’t read my mind, he thought.
His thoughts were far from pure. After all, he never claimed to be a monk. Seeing her there on the bed looking clean, warm, and inviting was killing him. The firelight w
as playing off the crown of her hair, the warm flickers turning her smooth skin to a translucent glow. Wisely, he kept his thoughts and his hands to himself.
“Come, Morgan. Let us eat while we have the opportunity to eat something warm.”
He didn’t have to ask twice as she jumped from the bed, letting the quilt fall to the floor behind her. She was starving. Quickly going to the side facing the fire, she sat at the well-worn but serviceable table.
“My lord, you need to sit closer to the fire to keep from getting cold. You’re without a shirt.” A fact she was painfully aware of, and one she really didn’t have to remind him of either.
“Your thoughtfulness is appreciated, Morgan.”
Nic didn’t argue. He would have sat there anyway. If he were to sit where she was sitting, it would place his back to the door, which was something he wasn’t likely to do any time soon.
Nic served their platters. She looked longingly at the food as he placed it in front of her. Nic thought she looked like a well-trained animal, patiently waiting until he had taken the first bite to begin eating with relish. It made him almost angry. Only heavy-handed dominance fostered this behavior.
“Oh, this is wonderful!” Morgan closed her eyes and moaned in delight as she took the first bites of the meal. Her eyes were alive as she spoke. “It has been years since I had anything warm to eat. I’d almost forgotten how good it could be to have the warmth slide down my throat.”
Coming from any other woman, Nic would have looked for sexual innuendo in the words. However, he watched her in fascination at her childlike enjoyment of the simple act of eating a warm meal. Furthermore, her statement confused him. They had been on the road only three days, and surely she hadn’t been on the run for more than a day or so before he found her. So what did she mean? Could her being the duchess be a mistake?
“Morgan, what do you mean you haven’t had a warm meal in years?” Nic hadn’t intended the words to come out as a command for an answer. He studied her and her reaction wasn’t what Nic had expected.