She found herself growing still more nervous as he looked down at her. Would he like what he saw? Mac preferred ladies who were curvaceous, and in the days after Isabella had left Mac’s house, she’d lost almost a stone, finding herself unable to eat. She’d regained some of her appetite, but her youthful plumpness had never returned. Mac had remained much the same in looks, although the puffiness that drink settled on his face had vanished, rendering his cheeks square and lean. He was more handsome now than he had ever been.
Mac pulled off his waistcoat and opened the cuffs of his shirt. Isabella’s hungry gaze absorbed him as he folded his sleeves to the elbows. His sinewy forearms were covered with dark gold hair that caught the light as he moved.
Once he’d adjusted his sleeves, he smiled at her and leaned to pluck the sponge from her nerveless fingers.
Mac made no pretense of not looking at her. His gaze traveled from her throat to her bosom, down her belly to her lower leg and foot resting on the edge of the tub. He squeezed out the sponge, holding it high so that the water sloshed back into the tub. Mac moved behind her and brushed his hand over the nape of her neck, and she leaned forward, bowing her head.
Isabella closed her eyes at the first touch of the sponge. Warm water flowed down her spine to the cleave of her buttocks; the water and the friction of the sponge made a fine sensation. If Evans had been washing her, the sensation would have remained merely pleasant. But it was Mac, with his hard body so near, his scent and warmth touching her, and pleasant became erotic.
Isabella laid her cheek on her knees and smiled as Mac continued to wash her back. He rested one hand on the edge of the tub, his skin brown and strong. Bits of paint clung to his fingertips.
The sight of the paint flecks made Isabella’s heart constrict. Of all the things she could remember about him, why did those tiny specks fill her with longing? Perhaps because the sight reminded her of what he was—an artist who painted for the love of it, not caring whether others praised him or censured him.
Isabella leaned forward and kissed his fingers.
Mac lifted his hand away, but only so he could snake both arms around her from behind. He pulled her back into his embrace, never mind how much water flowed out of the tub and over his shirt. He slid his hands across her slick skin to cup her breasts, and Isabella closed her eyes.
This was all so familiar, yet distant at the same time. Mac’s breath tickled her ear, and his big hands warmed her breasts while his fingers drew her nipples into hot points. He kissed her neck, his mouth a point of fire.
Mac, how I’ve missed you.
Isabella inhaled as Mac slid one hand down her belly and pressed his fingers between her legs. Isabella’s thighs opened at his touch. Her mind warned her to stop him, to modestly push him away, but her body wasn’t obeying. It had been too long, and Mac knew how to make her body sing.
Isabella closed her eyes, letting the wanton in her take over. When she lifted her hips so he might stroke her better, he laughed softly.
“That’s my wicked lady. You’re as smooth and sweet as I recall.” Another chuckle. “And as slippery.”
“It’s the soap.”
“No, love.” He swirled his fingers around her opening, fingers spreading her petals. “It’s you.”
“Only because it’s been so long.”
“I think you’re remembering what it’s like.” Mac nibbled at her earlobe. “Let me remind you, my Isabella, that you made me feel splendid in your parlor. Now let me return the favor.”
Isabella’s hips rocked as he cupped her, the breathtaking friction driving away all thought but Mac and his beautiful hands. He’d learned to read her well during their marriage, and he put his knowledge to good use. Mac’s fingers did their dance, teasing, tickling, making her groan.
As the first of her climax rose, Mac slowed his movements so that she would fade a little and build again. He did this the second time, and the third, until she was growling in frustration. Mac only laughed and brought her almost to climax again.
When she finally went over the top, Isabella nearly slid out of the tub onto him. Mac smiled down at her, his eyes dark. He was soaked, his shirt translucent with water. His hair was wet too, and the floor wasn’t much better.
Mac lifted her slippery body and kissed her. The kiss was deep, a lover’s kiss. She snaked her hand to the front of his trousers where his cock stood up thick and long.
“Yes, it’s hating me,” Mac whispered. “I want to gobble you up and not care.” He kissed her questing mouth, his lips bruising.
Isabella wanted more. She held onto him, fingers sinking into his wet shirt. “Mac.”
“I know what you want.” Mac lifted her to the lip of the tub. “Remember how well I know you?”
Isabella nodded. They’d played like this before, and she understood exactly what he needed her to do. She stood up in the water, moving her legs apart, and Mac knelt in front of her on the wet floor.
Her head went back as Mac pressed his mouth to her. If he knew how to use his hands, his skill with his mouth surpassed that. His tongue was a hot pressure that parted her opening and delved straight inside her.
This was heaven. Isabella threaded her fingers through his hair and held on as he drank her. She was going to die. She’d not felt womanly pleasure since they’d parted ways, and she couldn’t imagine that any man could have ever pleasured her better than Mac. He knew how to use his tongue and lips, even his teeth, to drive her insane. She found herself rocking back and forth, her incoherent cries ringing to the ceiling.
Mac’s unshaven whiskers scratched her skin as his wonderful mouth kept up its torture. He smoothed her back and buttocks, tongue encouraging her to release.
Her next peak was more than she could bear. She wanted to pull him inside her, she wanted him to carry her to bed and never let her leave. This was the Mac who had made her the weakest, the one who could dissolve her into a pliant puddle.
She wanted him so much. She would beg him to take her to bed, just this once. Isabella clutched his shirt, while his mouth drove her on and on. The shirt tore a little under her grip.
“Mac . . .”
Oh, drat it all to hell, she heard Evans’s heavy tread in the corridor.
Isabella gasped and pushed him away. Her body cried out with loss as Mac knelt back on his heels and dabbed his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes had a warm gleam, a man knowing his power.
Isabella plopped back down in the water, feeling a delicious bite where he’d suckled her. “You have to go.”
Mac remained on the floor, his smile positively evil. “Why, love? Will you be ruined if you’re found here alone with your rake of a husband?”
“No. Just . . .” She made shooing motions, which scattered droplets of water.
“Just what?” Mac stood up, taking his time. His shirt was plastered to his chest, showing his dark hair and the outlines of his aroused nipples. “Hide behind the screen? Or under the bedclothes? Dear, oh dear, what would Lady Priss and Miss Prude say?”
“Mac.”
Mac leaned down and gave her another devastating kiss. She tasted herself in his mouth, all mixed up with his spice. “As you wish, my lady. I will leave you. This time.”
Isabella breathed a sigh of relief, though she wasn’t certain why she should be so worried. Evans had walked in on them plenty of times when they’d been kissing each other, and the maid had always pretended to be oblivious. But for some reason, Isabella did not want Evans to see Mac now. Perhaps the embarrassment came from Isabella having to admit that Mac made her weak?
Mac brushed her face with his fingers and finally headed for the door, opening it just as Evans reached the threshold. Evans gave Mac an even stare over the pile of towels in her arms.
“Good evening, Evans.” Mac snatched a towel off the top and started mopping his face and neck with it. “I must warn you. Her ladyship is a bit tetchy tonight.”
Isabella screamed in frustration, and her sponge sailed across the room and splatted on the door next to Mac’s head. Mac laughed and wiped soapy water from his face. He winked at Evans.
“See what I mean?”
Isabella gave Mac a cool look when he entered the breakfast room the next morning. Mac had to grin when
