My Fair Lily(88)

“We’ll be needing food. And a hot bath for—”

“Aye, poor dear. We’ll take good care of yer lovely wife.” The innkeeper glanced at Lily, who had her chin up and was doing her best to smile, but her lips were blue and she was noticeably shivering. She had dark circles under her eyes which she had trouble keeping open because she was so obviously exhausted.

Had she heard the innkeeper refer to her as his wife?

Probably not, he decided when she made no move to correct his mistake. All the better. He had no intention of leaving her side, not even for a moment. He carried Lily into the parlor. Jasper settled himself beside the hearth and immediately fell asleep. Ewan didn’t have the heart to wake him. He ordered water and a juicy bone for him to chew on once the big lump awoke. That would keep him content for a while. He also arranged for a messenger to deliver a note to Lily’s father assuring him of Lily’s safety and telling him where they were. Lily was in desperate shape. She needed food, warmth, and sleep. A few hours delay in reaching London wouldn’t matter.

The creak of floorboards overhead meant the inn was coming to life. The other guests were beginning to stir, and Ewan didn’t want Lily seen. Fortunately, their room was quickly made ready, and he and Lily were settled in before any prying eyes fell upon them. Within moments, the efficient staff had delivered warm bread, jam, tea, additional blankets, a lavender soap, and a tub that they quickly filled with buckets of heated water.

One of the maids asked if she should stay to assist Lily. Ewan was about to accept the offer when Lily shot him a desperate glance. “No, my husband will take care of me.”

He thanked the maid, dismissed her, and latched the door before turning to Lily, his body once again on fire at the thought of what would come next. Lily had heard his exchange with the innkeeper after all. Did she understand the import of her words? They’d be alone while she stripped out of her clothes, while she stepped naked into the tub and rubbed soap all over her soft, silken body. He let out a tortured groan. “I’ll turn my back while you undress and get into the tub.”

She nodded, but didn’t move.

“Lass, do you want me to leave the room?”

“No,” she said in a ragged whisper. “I need you, Ewan. Right here, with me. I feel safe when I’m with you.”

But not safe from him. She stirred his blood. She roused his hunger. He wanted to feel her skin against his palms, taste her against his mouth. He turned away. This was a bad idea. He was no gentleman. Lily was every inch a lady. “Lass, I should go.”

“Ewan, my hands are shaking. I can’t feel my fingers. I can’t undress myself. You’ll have to do it for me. You don’t have to close your eyes. I don’t wish to hide anything from you.” He heard her sniffle. More tears? “I thought I was going to die in that cellar... or worse, that those men would do something so horrible to me that I’d wish to die.”

He turned to face her. In two strides, he had her in his arms. “Come, sweetheart. No nasty thoughts. I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you.” He held her until her tears subsided, dying a little inside each time she gazed at him with a lingering fear in her eyes. Not of him. It was fear from her ordeal.

When she’d calmed a little, he helped her out of her damp gown. The silk slid softly down her body as she stepped out of it.

He knelt beside her and rolled the stockings off her legs. First the right, then the left, all the while his fingers on her skin. A very bad idea. It took all his control to keep from sliding his hands between her shapely thighs and claiming her with his mouth. All that now stood between him and her naked body was a thin camisole. She didn’t stop him as he slipped it off her slender frame.

He understood how she felt, knew what she was feeling. It was as though no one else existed in the world but the two of them. Not two strangers thrown together by circumstance. They were two missing parts of a whole, meant for each other. Unable to exist without each other. “Lily, lass.” His voice was a raw, raspy whisper. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you, Ewan.” She moved out of his arms. He heard the gentle lap of water as she eased into the tub. “Oh, the soap is on the table.”

She was killing him. He let out a ragged breath. “I’ll get it for you.”

He tried not to look at her naked body. Failed miserably. Couldn’t take his eyes off her. He handed her the soap. Still looking at her. Eyeballs practically pasted to her breasts. She didn’t reach for the soap. “Will you help me, Ewan?”

She was killing him slowly and painfully. “If you wish.”