“Usually women have their own bathing hours, but I doubt anyone will object. We’ll stay in the darkest corner.”
In a small dressing closet, they stripped down to a single layer of clothing. Isabel’s shift was long, but Chetwynd wore a lightweight shirt that only reached his knees. He took her hand and led her down a narrow staircase to the floor below where they approached the shadowy bathing area.
Still overwhelmed by the steamy atmosphere, Isabel hesitated, but Chetwynd pulled her along toward the bath. True to his word, he led her to the darkest corner, and with the hum of the pump, and the fact the other bathers discreetly ignored them, it felt as though they were alone.
When Chetwynd lowered himself over the side and into the warm water, Isabel saw it just covered his shoulders. She sat on the edge of the tiled pool moving her legs in the water. Impatient to have her with him, Chetwynd reached up, placed his hands on her waist, and pulled her down, causing her body to slide against his own.
By now he should be used to the thrill of holding her, Chetwynd told himself. But each time it happened, he seemed more aware of each soft curve and found it harder to let go. It was Isabel who pulled away and turned her back to him. She paddled through the water, putting a short distance between them.
From the way she moved away whenever he came near, Chetwynd realized that Isabel was determined to keep her distance. He had planned to do his best to resist the temptation to take her in his arms, but Isabel wasn’t giving him a chance to practice restraint. For some reason that irked him.
“Do you like the water?” he asked very softly.
“What?”
He spoke even softer. “I said, do you like the water?”
Because the noise of the pump drowned out his words, Isabel moved closer to Chetwynd. “I can’t hear you, my lord.”
Chetwynd reached out and pulled her against him. For a moment she laughed and struggled, then went still in his arms and whispered, “You tricky knave.” She moved her body against his to tease him. The trick backfired when it aroused her as much as it did him. She wondered how she imagined it could be otherwise.
“Do you know what you do to me, Isabel?” he murmured into her ear.
She wrapped her arms around his neck then. “Perhaps we could be very good friends. It would be all right for friends to kiss, I would imagine.”
He obliged her, and in her enthusiasm, she wrapped her legs around his waist. The kiss lasted a long time while they leisurely reacquainted themselves with each other’s mouths. Isabel returned the thrusts of his tongue. When he seemed to enjoy that, she bit his bottom lip.
Chetwynd groaned into her mouth. Isabel wondered if she had hurt him and stopped the kiss to stare at him. “Are you all right?”
“Not really. We need to talk.”
“Right now?” she asked, making her complaint clear by her frown. The last thing she wanted to do was talk.
He reluctantly unwrapped her arms from around his neck and pushed her away. “Yes. Right now, but not in the bath. I’m getting out. You swim for a few minutes more, then follow me to that massage room over there.”
Isabel looked where he was pointing and nodded. She didn’t have much choice but to do what he requested. When she entered the massage room, she found him wrapped in a large flannel. He held one out to her. She turned her back, slipped out of her wet shift under the dry cloth, and wrapped herself in it. When she turned around, Chetwynd was sitting on a high table against the wall.
As Isabel moved toward him, he separated his legs and made room for her to stand between them. His flannel had slipped to his waist and she stared at his bare shoulder where a large bruise had turned black and blue. “Good lord, I did that,” she said, remembering the rock she had aimed at him when she thought he was a kidnapper. Without thinking, she leaned forward to kiss the bruise.
Chetwynd shivered in response to her tender gesture. “We have matching bruises,” he said softly. “We’ve both been marked by this journey.”
And not all the marks are visible, Isabel thought as she realized how much her life had changed in the last two weeks. He might have been thinking the same thing, because his face took on a serious expression. “We need to talk.”
At the tone of his voice, alarm bells started to go off in Isabel’s mind. He clearly had bad news. She pulled back from him, and he let her go. She moved to sit beside him and stared down at his bare feet, waiting to hear what he had to say.
“I’m worried about the kidnapping, Isabel. We haven’t made any progress in finding the outlaws responsible.”
Isabel interrupted before he could say more. “Perhaps it was just an accident that they happened upon me. It was my fault for lagging behind. Can’t we forget about it?”
“They knew my name, Isabel. It was no accident. I’ve made some enemies at court by siding with Queen Judith and supporting her ambitions for her son. I used my influence to help her and spent a great deal of time in her company.” He paused, knowing it was time to tell the truth. “The queen and I were close for a short time. But it ended before I left court.”
Isabel’s stomach rolled. She realized she had hoped the rumors were false. He hadn’t said they were lovers, but the message was clear.
When Isabel kept her head down and didn’t reply, Chetwynd continued. “It seems unlikely my enemies at court were responsible for your kidnapping. But that doesn’t mean they won’t try to injure you to spite me.”
Isabel still wouldn’t meet
