Dance of Desire Read Online Free PDF

would soon come to his chamber, and she wished to be long gone before he arrived.

As though attuned to her dishonorable thoughts, the fire popped and hissed. Only burning pitch, Rexana reminded herself with a nervous laugh, as the flames flared and cast accusing fingers of light across the screen.
    She hobbled across the floorboards. Her feet sank into the brightly patterned carpet near the bed. Ignoring the silkiness, the urge to pause and wiggle her toes in deeper, she approached the screen. Gripping one edge, she peered around.
    The fire crackled. Logs shifted and thumped onto the hearth grate, while the blaze roared with a fierce heat.
    Behind the screen, a bathing tub, wet from use earlier in the day, rested on the floorboards. Beside it was a small table holding a bowl of water, folded linen cloths, a towel, and a round cake of soap. No hidden door, only an intriguing scent.
    Rexana wiggled her nose. What a fragrance. Unique. Exotic. Irresistible. Ignoring the fire's loud snapping, as well as the warning buzz skittering through her mind, she picked up the cake, held it to her nose, and inhaled deeply through the veil. Her eyelids fluttered closed.
    " Mmm ." Lemon, cinnamon —
    "Is it to your liking, love?"
    With a startled squeak, Rexana dropped the soap. It bounced off the edge of the tub, banged the opposite side, then fell to the bottom with a thud. Hands pressed over her heart, she whirled around. Linford stood beside the screen. Close enough for her to recognize his spicy musk. He had used the soap when he bathed.

Vivid images flooded her imagination. Him sprawled in the tub, rubbing the soap between his palms. Lathering the cake into a frothy mass. Rubbing it, slowly, inch by wanton inch, over his broad, damp, naked chest.

She stifled another appreciative " Mmm ." Oh, mercy.

Their gazes met. He raised one eyebrow in silent challenge, as though awaiting an explanation.

"Milord." She scarcely heard her voice over her hammering pulse. "I did not expect you so soon."

"So I see."

Her gaze shot past him to the closed doors. Too late, she recalled his cat-like stealth which she had witnessed in the hall. The noisy fire had disguised his entry.

Yet, she had only herself to blame for her curiosity.

She looked back at the tub. Laughing, she pointed to the soap which had slid far out of reach. "I hope you do not mind. I have never smelled that particular blend of scents." Her voice quavered and she groaned inwardly. How effortlessly he rattled years of carefully tutored poise. She had not trembled this much when her father had presented her to King Richard.

As though noticing her discomfort, a smile tilted Linford's mouth. "I bought that kind at a bazaar in Cyprus. Worth every bit of coin. English soap is simply not the same."

Rexana swallowed. His enticing male scent, his closeness, and the assessing glint in his eyes sent chills rippling over her skin. Stifling a swell of worry, she focused her thoughts upon acting her role. She must not foolishly betray herself or endanger the others, or undermine her own plans for escape.

She must tempt. Seduce. Distract.

Linford's gaze sharpened slightly. Her skin prickled with goose bumps. Though he did not touch her, she felt his gaze traveling over her face like a physical caress.

"Why do you look at me so?" he asked.

Forcing sultry warmth into her voice, she said, "Whatever do you mean, milord?"

He laughed softly, but his tone held a hint of derision. "As though I will throw you upon the bed and ravish you like a hot-blooded savage. I promise I will treat you with civility."

"I do not doubt your skills." By the saints, she hoped she sounded appropriately intrigued.

His teeth flashed white, a brazen promise. "Good. Yet, unfortunately, I came to tell you our pleasure must be delayed until later this eve. I have urgent matters to attend first."

"Urgent matters?" Rexana sensed steel behind his words. Had he captured Henry? Did he know of the plan to steal the missive?