job to believe you or not." Coming up a step, he forced me to step back. Picking up his bucket, he practically herded me down the hall and into the room.
I sat and watched as the men went about the task until the tub was filled halfway. The cool, clean water looked appealing to my sweaty, itchy skin.
Once the bounty hunter gave Billy his tip and the door closed behind him, he started to unbutton his shirt. While I was curious as to whether he had chest hair and what its color was, I blushed at his task. "I beg your pardon," I said in my primmest tone, my spine straightening.
His hands stopped mid-motion, then he sighed.
"I appreciate your maidenly modesty, however, I've been on the trail for the past three months searching for you and your family and I want a bath."
"I'll sit outside the door," I countered, crossing my hands over my chest.
His sandy colored eyebrow went up. "Sure, you will. You have two choices. Sit and watch or turn your chair around and spare yourself the sight."
I opened my mouth to tell him what I thought of his choices , but he pulled the tails of her shirt free of his pants, making it clear that he was taking a bath whether I turned around or not. I stood, picked up the chair and turned it the other way. Sitting down, I stared at the room's wall and counted the number of knots in the simple wood.
The splashing was the only indication that he'd gotten in the tub. This was utterly ridiculous! I didn't have to sit here with a man taking a bath. I was innocent.
I stood and began to skirt around the tub without looking at him, my eyes averted, but he stood to his full height in all his wet, naked glory and took hold of my arm. "You wanted to join me?"
It was hard to keep my eyes on his, for in my periphery I could see broad shoulders, a solid chest that had a sprinkling of sandy colored hair. He had narrow hips and below...oh!
My cheeks flushed remembering the feel of that hard chest against my back as we rode. I had lived with two brothers and a father, but none compared to the bounty hunter. His hands were quite large and he was quite strong. Would he be rough when he touched a woman or could he be gentle? Those whiskers...I thought once again about them and how they'd feel against my skin...everywhere.
"I'm leaving."
His grip tightened for just a moment as he shook his head, then angled it toward the empty chair. "Sit."
I narrowed my eyes at him defiantly and didn't move. It was a battle of wills, but I knew that wouldn't be enough. He had size on his side. Nakedness, too, for he was just as intimidating, if not more so, undressed.
I tugged my arm out of his grip and huffed back to the chair and sat facing the wall once again, yet the image of him with droplets of water on his tanned skin filled my mind.
"You may turn around." His voice broke through my thoughts minutes later.
"Are...are you decent?" I asked, before I did so.
"Yes, Miss Sinclair, I'm decent."
When I stood and turned, I took in his clean clothes, the dirty ones in a pile on the floor. Dark pants and a light shirt fit snugly across his solid physique. His hair was overly long and appeared finger combed, yet still wet.
"Your turn, if you'd like."
I licked my lips at the idea, for I was sticky and dusty, but was instantly appalled. "I couldn't with you in the same room!"
He held up his hands in defense. "I'll empty the water from the tub and draw fresh for you. I'll wait outside in the hall."
I eyed him skeptically. Why was he being so nice, so gentlemanly? I questioned his motives. "Why are you doing this? I'm just a prisoner to you," I said, my voice bitter, repeating my thoughts.
"At first I thought you were ogling me in the tub, but I was wrong, you just wanted a bath."
His words were mostly true, for I was longing for the water, but I was ogling him as well.
"You'll give me your clothes to keep."
My mouth fell open. "You're trading a bath for my clothes?"
"You can't escape naked."
"I shouldn't have anything to
I sat and watched as the men went about the task until the tub was filled halfway. The cool, clean water looked appealing to my sweaty, itchy skin.
Once the bounty hunter gave Billy his tip and the door closed behind him, he started to unbutton his shirt. While I was curious as to whether he had chest hair and what its color was, I blushed at his task. "I beg your pardon," I said in my primmest tone, my spine straightening.
His hands stopped mid-motion, then he sighed.
"I appreciate your maidenly modesty, however, I've been on the trail for the past three months searching for you and your family and I want a bath."
"I'll sit outside the door," I countered, crossing my hands over my chest.
His sandy colored eyebrow went up. "Sure, you will. You have two choices. Sit and watch or turn your chair around and spare yourself the sight."
I opened my mouth to tell him what I thought of his choices , but he pulled the tails of her shirt free of his pants, making it clear that he was taking a bath whether I turned around or not. I stood, picked up the chair and turned it the other way. Sitting down, I stared at the room's wall and counted the number of knots in the simple wood.
The splashing was the only indication that he'd gotten in the tub. This was utterly ridiculous! I didn't have to sit here with a man taking a bath. I was innocent.
I stood and began to skirt around the tub without looking at him, my eyes averted, but he stood to his full height in all his wet, naked glory and took hold of my arm. "You wanted to join me?"
It was hard to keep my eyes on his, for in my periphery I could see broad shoulders, a solid chest that had a sprinkling of sandy colored hair. He had narrow hips and below...oh!
My cheeks flushed remembering the feel of that hard chest against my back as we rode. I had lived with two brothers and a father, but none compared to the bounty hunter. His hands were quite large and he was quite strong. Would he be rough when he touched a woman or could he be gentle? Those whiskers...I thought once again about them and how they'd feel against my skin...everywhere.
"I'm leaving."
His grip tightened for just a moment as he shook his head, then angled it toward the empty chair. "Sit."
I narrowed my eyes at him defiantly and didn't move. It was a battle of wills, but I knew that wouldn't be enough. He had size on his side. Nakedness, too, for he was just as intimidating, if not more so, undressed.
I tugged my arm out of his grip and huffed back to the chair and sat facing the wall once again, yet the image of him with droplets of water on his tanned skin filled my mind.
"You may turn around." His voice broke through my thoughts minutes later.
"Are...are you decent?" I asked, before I did so.
"Yes, Miss Sinclair, I'm decent."
When I stood and turned, I took in his clean clothes, the dirty ones in a pile on the floor. Dark pants and a light shirt fit snugly across his solid physique. His hair was overly long and appeared finger combed, yet still wet.
"Your turn, if you'd like."
I licked my lips at the idea, for I was sticky and dusty, but was instantly appalled. "I couldn't with you in the same room!"
He held up his hands in defense. "I'll empty the water from the tub and draw fresh for you. I'll wait outside in the hall."
I eyed him skeptically. Why was he being so nice, so gentlemanly? I questioned his motives. "Why are you doing this? I'm just a prisoner to you," I said, my voice bitter, repeating my thoughts.
"At first I thought you were ogling me in the tub, but I was wrong, you just wanted a bath."
His words were mostly true, for I was longing for the water, but I was ogling him as well.
"You'll give me your clothes to keep."
My mouth fell open. "You're trading a bath for my clothes?"
"You can't escape naked."
"I shouldn't have anything to
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