Fascinated

'You're awfully good at this.'

'I have a great number of things I'm good at.'

'And yet you're single. How have you eluded the pursuing women?'

He instantly looked uncomfortable.

'Relax, Flynn. I'm not in the market for a husband ever again.'

He visibly relaxed, and she laughed.

'Force of habit,' he muttered, 'with a question like that. Would you like a bath?'

'Are we changing the subject?'

'Definitely.'

'Do I need a bath?'

'Not necessarily. But the tub is large enough for two.'

'Hmmm.' Her gaze was flirtatious. 'Do I detect another lesson?'

He faintly moved his head on the pillow. 'No more lessons darling. I dislike the role. I'm just sweaty and sticky.' He ran his hand over his chest. 'But if you don't mind, I don't.'

'How big is the tub?'

'Very. And there's a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket just outside the door.' 'Since when?'

'Since I told Claude to bring one up.' 'Oh, my God! Do you think he heard me scream?' 'Servants don't hear anything.'

'What kind of servants do you have? Mine tell me what to eat for lunch.'

He grinned. 'Then, you've become much too friendly with them.'

'If you recall, my high-and-mighty Flynn, I once was very near their rank myself.'

His gaze held hers for a moment. 'Were you always poor?'

'Does it matter?'

'Not to me.' He spent a good deal of time in the far-flung reaches of the world; he was content with a simple life.

'As a matter of fact, my father was a viscount, although a Scottish laird is almost by definition poor. But we lived on a fine old estate, much the worse for lack of funds until my marriage.'

'Why don't you live there now?'

'I don't get on with my brother's wife.'

'Ah. A common enough complaint. So you were thrown out on the world.'

'I chose not to live there under their sufferance. As it turns out, I much prefer Villa Paradise to the chill of Aberdeenshire. And thanks to you, I can continue to enjoy it.'

'It was my pleasure, chou chou. And at the risk of offending you, would you mind terribly taking a bath with me?'

'Oh, dear, I smell.'

'We both do, although I'm thinking of a cold glass of champagne with considerable relish at the moment.'

'In a warm bath.'

He smiled. 'Our own touch of paradise.' Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he walked around the end and, coming up beside her, held out his hand.

'I'd be a fool to refuse, wouldn't I?'

'I think you'll like it.'

'That tone of voice makes your offer even more tempting.'

'I was hoping it would. You might like to ride me, I thought.'

'Flynn!' She felt her body instantly leap in response.

'It doesn't appeal?' His dark eyes held a touch of amusement.

'Everything about you appeals, as you well know.'

He didn't pretend false modesty. 'Good,' he said. 'Then, we'll both enjoy ourselves.'

The bathroom was enormous, tiled in gleaming red and gold faience that reminded her of the Provencal countryside. The tub was indeed large enough for two or four or six, she didn't doubt, the gold fixtures ornately cast, the designs of dolphin spouts and sea shell faucets exquisite. Opposite the sunken tub, three flower-painted porcelain sinks were backed by a mirrored wall. Above the sinks stretched a long glass shelf filled with such a variety of colorful toiletries, the array could have stocked a small boutique.

A balcony lay outside wide glass doors facing the sea while two paneled doors in antiqued yellow punctuated the opposing wall.

'If you'd like to use the facilities,' the duke offered, indicating the doors with a wave of his hand.

After drinking so much champagne at dinner, the offer was inviting. 'You can't listen.'

His brows rose. 'It's a bit late for modesty, isn't it?'

She blushed, reminded of all that had passed between them.

'I'll begin to fill the tub if you like. Would that be better?'

'Thank you.' She lifted her hands slightly in a nervous gesture. 'I'm very new at this.'

Aware of the unusual desires she evoked, he gently said, 'Maybe we both are.'

'How gallant.' Her voice was less uncertain, her gaze once again composed. Turning to the doors behind her, she opened them both before selecting the room with the bidet. Glancing back before she entered, she sweetly smiled. 'I feel terribly grown up.'

Alarm tightened his stomach. She was a lush vision of womanhood, but so entirely without guile, that inconsistency could pose a danger. 'Don't tell me you're sixteen.'

'I wish I could tell you I was sixteen and forget I was ever married. In a more perfect world, perhaps-'

'I'm not interested in a long discussion right now.' His voice was terse. 'How old are you?'

'You're nervous,' she teased.

Nothing so genial resonated in his voice. 'Just tell me.'

'Twenty-six.'

His relief was so apparent she laughed out loud. 'Now that was a moment of sheer terror.'

'Damn right it was. Men have been forced to the altar for far less.'

'Let me assure you, dear Flynn, I'm only interested in your'-her gaze traveled down to his penis, and his libido instantly responded-'ability to perform on command,' she purred. 'By the way,' she added, her gaze coquettish, 'I like that I can do that to you.'

'Go,' he gruffly said, at a loss for an offhand remark when he was taut with lust. As the door shut behind her, he took himself to task, reminding himself that innocents like Miss Greenwood were outside his purview for a variety of reasons that bore recall, like families that might object or notions of accountability and responsibility he didn't care to face. He would enjoy her tonight because he would be a fool if he didn't, but worldly women were more his style. They knew the rules of the game. And with that sensible reminder, he walked to the tub, turned on the faucets and went to the second bathroom. He had every intention of drinking enough tonight to obliterate his disturbing attraction to the artless Miss Greenwood.

Even with the tub water running, Felicia heard him in the adjacent bathroom and found herself listening like a voyeur. How strange, she thought, that she was intrigued with even the most earthy facets of the man when she would have considered such conduct coarse and vulgar before tonight. Why this inordinate interest? she wondered, trying to make sense of the intense attraction she felt.

He was handsome as a god, of course, but that wasn't reason enough to be so fascinated in every detail of his life. His lovemaking was glorious, but sex didn't rule her world, or it never had, she ruefully noted, until tonight. As for his charm, he had that in abundance. But charm alone didn't explain her profound desire to know the intimacies of his life. Did he clean his teeth in the morning or at night or both? What kind of bed did he sleep on at home? Did he like scent on his shirts? Did he whistle? Her mind raced with new and peculiar curiosities.

Was this what happened to every woman Flynn made love to? Did his seductive skills leave every woman wanting more, wanting the whole man revealed? Or was she just overly impressionable like a grass-green maid, easily infatuated by a handsome face, spectacular sexual skills and a cock like the rod of empire?

That last indecorous image brought a smile to her face even as she chided herself for such shameful thoughts.