Page 66 of Laird of Smoke
He froze, feigning sleep.
“Adam,” she repeated.
He remained still.
Finally she grasped his shoulder in her bath-warmed hand and gave it a shake.“Adam.”
He pretended to rouse, looking at her through the narrow slits of his eyes, and murmured, “Is it my turn?”
“Aye.”
She was draped in a dark cloak.But underneath she wore only her leine.A few damp tendrils of her hair clung to her neck, and a stray droplet of water trickled across her collar bone to disappear between her breasts.
He gulped.
It was a shame the water hadn’t grown cold after all.Perhaps then it would cool his hot blood.
He sat up, raking his hands back through his hair.
“How is the bed?”she asked.“Soft?”
“Aye,” he said, pulling the curtain back.
She sat down beside him, looking fresh.Smelling divine.And wreaking havoc.
He fought the overpowering desire to tip her back onto the pallet and bury his face in her fragrant neck.
Instead he gave her a stern frown.“Ye won’t peek, will ye?”
She raised her brows.“Didye?”
“O’ course not.”He snorted, indignant.“I’m a man of honor.”
Then he got up, shooed her inside the canopy, and made a point of closing the curtains securely.
“Wait,” she said.After a moment, she handed her cloak to him through the curtains.
Dear God, she was wearing just her leine now, wasn’t she?Her thin, flimsy, sheer leine.
With a shuddering sigh, he plodded toward the dais, draping her cloak over the chair, next to her gown.He shrugged out of his clothes and sank into the water.It was—against his wiser hopes—deliciously hot.
Only later did he realize the wicked lass had never actually promised she wouldn’t peek.
Eve was absolutely going to spy on Adam.It was rare she had an opportunity to glimpse a naked man.
As a nun, she’d stumbled a few times across elderly priests taking advantage of the convent tub.They’d looked plump, pale, and lumpy, like uncooked apple coffyns.
And sometimes the beardless lads of the village swam naked in the nearby loch.
But she’d seen few grown men.So she was naturally curious.
Would God have approved?
Certainly.
After all, hadn’t man been made in His image?And given that this man’s name was Adam…at least, shethoughthis name was Adam…what could be more fitting?
Standing up carefully on the pallet, she stepped toward the split in the curtain.Taking a hem in each hand, she opened the gap the tiniest bit, just enough to peer through the crack.
