Nicole Jordan Read Free

night.”
    “Do you intend to join me?”
    She hesitated for a heartbeat. “Yes. A massage will be more effective in concert with the heat of the water.”
    He gave a deliberate shrug, circling his shoulders as if trying to relieve the ache. “I would give a year off my life if you could give me some respite from the pain.”
    Turning, he made his way across to the middle pool. “You told me your Dr. Allenby sometimes employs the Eastern arts here on Cyrene. Is massage part of the Eastern philosophy? You were constantly working Yates’s limbs to keep the blood flowing and to ease the pain.”
    “Yes,” Caro said. “Eastern medicine puts great faith in the healing power of touch.”
    She watched then as the major silently shed his breeches.
    She had studied human anatomy before. And she had seen unclothed men countless times. But they were all cadavers or patients who were ill or injured. There was nothing frail or infirm about this man. He looked more like a Greek god, long-limbed and perfectly sculpted. There was a wild, primitive beauty to his body. The silvery light accentuated every hard muscle in his wide shoulders, his powerful back, which tapered to narrow hips, his taut buttocks, his sinewy horseman’s thighs….
    The brazen sight of him took her breath away, while his casual nudity flustered her. But then, he evidently didn’t suspect she was sexually inexperienced. With her unconventional vocation, he would likely assume she knew about men and lovemaking. In the army, the only female medical orderlies to attend wounded soldiers were camp followers.
    He eased himself into the pool. The lower side sloped much like the head of a chaise lounge, and he lay back, reclining so that the surface level came halfway to his chest. Shutting his eyes momentarily, he gave a harsh sigh of contentment as the heated water washed over him.
    “You were right,” he murmured at last. “This is paradise.”
    The silence that ensued, however, had the opposite effect on Caro. Her tension had returned with a vengeance.
    She knew now that she couldn’t remain professional and indifferent with Max Leighton, as if he were any other patient. How had she ever thought she could?
    “Are you coming in?” He was waiting for her, she realized. Watching.
    It struck her then that she also had been lying to herself. She’d thought she had persuaded him to come here tonight out of simple compassion. Because he was hurting and she had never been able to turn away from anyone in pain.
    But had she secretly hoped for something more?
    She could hear her heartbeat vying with the low hum of the cicadas in the warm night and wondered if her inner turmoil showed.
    Was this her chance to indulge her wild yearnings? Her feverish imaginings? She had controlled her restless longings for years, content to live her life without passion, on the shelf by choice. Yet tonight that could change….
    “Caro?”
    When he called to her again, she obeyed, as if lured by some irresistible force. She halted at the edge of the pool, and after a moment’s hesitation, let her gown drop to the ground.
    When she lowered herself into the bath, her cambric shift floated around her hips. The warmth of the water caressed her body as she waded toward him, but it was the heat in Max Leighton’s eyes that made her feel flushed and feverish. His intense glance set her quivering.
    By the time she reached him, she felt clumsy with nerves, yet she tried to keep her tone even. “Give me your back.”
    He eased away from the wall and turned so that his back was to her. Kneeling behind him, Caro raised her hands and gently curved her fingers over his shoulders. At first contact she could feel the rigid tightness of the muscles.
    “Close your eyes,” she ordered softly.
    With a light pressure, she began massaging, making small circles with the tips of her fingers. The flesh beneath his skin felt as hard as wood, the tendons in his neck as taut as bow strings. His body was one