"Please see that the blade is properly cleaned and sharp- ened, and the scabbard well-oiled. " Heaven knew, her scabbard was getting well-oiled, just from this brief touch. He stank of blood and sweat, the heavy musk of days of travel, and yet she wanted nothing more than to be the hands that scrubbed all that off his skin, as if unwrapping a gift for herself. She took the goblet from his hands then. "If you'll remove the rest and step into the tub, we shall attend to your bath. " Making herself turn away and cross the tent, she heard him shift,rustle, telling her he was removing the tunic and undergar- ments, untying the mail and handing it to the outstretched hands of her servants. She wondered at his willingness to give up his weapons, but then she realized the tent was well decorated with her own ar- maments. He could outfit himself if needed, and if she was telling the truth, she was saving him the time of preparing his weapons for his next battle. Even so, she suspected he was not a man who easily trusted another to do that, and that uncomfortably suggested he might be feeling some of the same strong pull toward her she was feeling toward him. Setting aside the goblet, she heard him step into the tub and her servants quietly depart, leaving her alone with her prey. Her dinner. Her pleasure. She turned. Holy God . . . And she meant it in the most reverent sense. Even crusted with blood and grime, it was obvious his body was God's creation. Muscled haunches, broad back, long arms, wide chest and a cock already semierect, giving her a mouthwatering idea of its size and thickness when fully aroused. It had already lengthened at her regard, even as he obviously tried to look any- where but at her. Perhaps he was thinking he shouldn't presume she was trying to seduce him, since she'd yet to make any direct over- tures that way. But oh, that was fully her intent. She was hungry on two very vital levels. She'd sent her marked human servant ahead to make arrange- ments for their stay, but there was something about this man that told her even if she'd had a meal readily at her fingertips she'd have sent it from her presence in favor of this one.
She wanted to bid him stand still as she poured the water over him, watch it sluice over hard muscle, taking away the dust and making his skin gleam in the candlelight. As she approached, she cast her eyes down, ostensibly a modest maiden, but really to get a better view of that impressive organ. De- spite his best efforts to be chivalrous it was still rising, particularly when she took her time raising her gaze, letting it linger on all the terrain from thigh to throat. She was close enough to reach out to graze his flat abdomen with her fingers and she did, her nails scrap- ing him. "My lady. " He caught her wrists. She was surprised to look up into a face that, while avid with a man's desire, was also filled with male laughter. "You are teasing me. " She smiled. "I am. I find myself ravenous, my knight. As you have suggested, my hungers are rather unusual. I wouldn't presume upon you to fi ll those hungers, because you have saved my life and the lives of many of my people tonight. But I admit I tend to be a self- ish creature. " Studying her, he lifted a hand to cup her face. The sheer impact of that touch made her go still. Her eyes closed of their own accord, her mind wondering at her trembling response as he stroked along her temple. When his thumb passed over her lips, she drew it into her mouth and bit. He started a little, but didn't draw back. She wasn't using any compulsion at all, and yet she felt him just watching her curiously, tightening his grasp on her other wrist. "My mind tells me what you are, " he whispered. "It tells me I should have helped them end you. But my heart tells me I would give the last drop of my blood to protect you. Is it a spell? Are you using your beauty to cloud my eyes to truth?" She kept her gaze lowered, lashes fanning her cheeks, and sam- pled his blood. Finding it to her liking, she drew his thumb in far- ther, licking the welling drops away, suckling at him in a manner suggesting how she would like to suckle other parts of him. She heard him mutter a curse. When her eyes rose at last, he was still watching her draw the tiny trickle of sustenance from him.
After she let him go, he looked at his thumb, bemused, before lowering the hand to her hip, drawing her closer to him, her shins pressing against the edge of the standing tub. "You are a mystery, my lady. I ask myself why I'm not running from the temptation of you, so great that fighting in a dozen Cru- sades wouldn't eradicate the sin from my soul. " "You never answered my question. Do you fear me, Sir Knight?" He smiled, and this time the response reached his eyes, lighting them like sapphires in the firelight. It astonished her. He sensed what she might be, and yet he truly did not fear her. "I will die in these lands, but not by your fair hand. Though I think it would be a far better death to die with my head in your lap. " It cast a shadow over the moment. Imagining such a thing both- ered her more than it should for this man she'd just met. "I forbid you to speak of such nonsense. We'll wash such thoughts away. " When she bent to pick up the first bucket, he touched her elbow, stopping her. "That's far too heavy, my lady. Please, let me. " She could lift him on the flat of her palm, but the gesture sent a wave of pleasure through her. He tipped the bucket over himself, wetting his hair and letting the flow run over his body, though spar- ingly. Enough to dampen him, but not wasting anything. A man who'd obviously been in the desert lands awhile, if the bronzed cast of his face hadn't told her that already. When he set the bucket down and straightened to use the sponge to spread the water over himself for the soap, it was she who stopped him. Instead of allowing him to slick back his wet hair from his head, she did it for him. Rising on her toes, she let her fingertips fol- low the lines of his eyelids, feathering over his lashes to collect the water so he could open his eyes again. When she drew her hands back, her thumbs caressed his lips, his throat. His clear blue eyes stared at her now, an obvious struggle going on in their depths. "My lady . . . I . . . You know you owe me nothing, yes? I demand nothing from you, even your hospitality. " "Deny hospitality to a traveler in the desert? Something rarely done to a mortal enemy, let alone a person who saved my retainers' lives and possibly my own?"
"It was a ser vice I'd gladly perform a hundred times, so your beauty would grace the world another day. " "Or night, " she murmured. "A lady such as you, " he continued doggedly, "surely has a hus- band waiting. I'll not bring dishonor to you. You owe me nothing. " She had to bite back a smile at his persistence, even as she felt his heat rising at her sultry teasing. "I do not have a husband, Sir Knight. I am a very wealthy, very independent creature and I do as I please. Right now, bathing you is what pleases me. " She bade him turn then with her lathered hands. "If I wish to compensate you for your time, that's my business and none of yours. You may find I've asked far too much of you as it is. " She ran the soap across the wide, muscular area between his shoulders. She wished she was home where she could have bathed him in a tub large enough for them both, but that was a pointless wish since he hardly would have been called to rescue her in her for- tress. Flattening her hands on the small of his back, she fanned out her fingers and ran them over the curves of his buttocks, making sure she dipped in between, rubbing him intimately and lower. "Be still, " she said quietly as he started. "Or I'll restrain you with ribbons from my hair to allow me time to please myself. " Her touch moved between his parted muscular thighs and gripped his testicles, lathering the heavy sac, and then down the length of the leg to where it met the water just below his knee. She did it to the other leg, taking another opportunity to fondle his balls, tease the crease of his back- side. "Turn. " When he did, she dwelled appreciatively on his erect member before she began to lather it as well. He rocked toward her, closing his eyes, but he clenched his hands at his sides and did not touch her as she ran her hands up his belly, over his nipples and back to his neck. "You show restraint, Sir Knight. I like that. Your cock says it wants me, but your mind stays in control of your lust. "