Iris Johansen - A Summer Smile

Make her take him! The shock of that subconscious thought sent an electrifying jolt through him. He had been within an inch of plunging into her like a rutting stag, not caring whether she wanted it or not. His only concern had been the need for release from the painful aching in his loins. He felt sick with disgust. Only yesterday he had told Clancy that he wasn’t going to touch her, that he was going to teach her to trust him. He had been the one who was going to show her that all men weren’t animals. His predicament would have been funny if it hadn’t possessed the elements of tragedy. Even realizing how close he had come, he was still trembling like a hound who had just scented a bitch in heat. And the most maddening aspect of this entire situation was that he could tell Zilah didn’t even realize it existed. It was all there in the clear wonder of the eyes gazing up at him. In spite of her experiences as a child, she still possessed an innocence that amazed him. She knew about violation but she obviously wasn’t aware of the more subtle nuances of sexual arousal. The time she had spent in the House of the Yellow Door was a thing apart for her, not connected with their relationship. She was even accepting their lovemaking in the cave as a temporary aberration on his part. Perhaps he should be grateful she was looking at it like that.

His hand fell from her throat to her shoulder and pushed her gently away. What had they been talking about? He could only remember dark pink crests crowning full golden breasts and…“You wanted to take a shower?”

A shower? Yes, she definitely needed a shower. She was trembling all over and her knees were weak again, but not from any physical disability. “Yes, I was going to take a shower,” she said vaguely.

“We’ll see what we can do.” He released her shoulders and stepped back. She swayed. He quickly braced her again. “Damn, you can scarcely stand up. How do you expect to take a shower? Hell, you’d probably faint and drown before I could get in to pull you out.”

He was angry again. She tried to clear her mind of the sensual mist that was clouding it. Why was he so angry with her when a moment ago he had been so gentle? Now there was no hint of anything but harshness in his face, and she felt a throb of pain tighten her chest. She lifted her chin. “I’ll manage. I won’t need your help.”

“The devil you won’t.” He cradled her in his left arm and she found herself being half pushed, half carried toward the bathroom door. “Unless you want Philip’s valet, Raoul, to help you, I’m the only game in town. Believe me, I don’t like the idea any more than you do.”

He threw open the door to reveal a bathroom that was the ultimate in sybaritic luxury. A long, mirrored vanity flanked one wall. In a corner, immediately to the left of the door, was a shower stall with frosted glass doors. The center of the room was occupied by a sunken tub that was as large as some swimming pools Zilah had seen. It was tiled in a mosaic rose and ivory floral design, and at the opposite end of the tub were two wide steps leading down into its gleaming depths.

Daniel slammed the door behind them and lifted Zilah onto the vanity before turning to kneel by the gold faucets at the head of the tub. He swiftly turned them on full blast. Clouds of steam swirled around him as he sat back on his haunches, keeping his eyes carefully averted from her and fixed on the gushing water. “This will take only a minute to fill.”

“I thought I was going to take a shower.”

“A bath is better. I’d have to get into the shower stall with you. It would be a little crowded.”

The thought of that intimacy made her throat tighten. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll be able to manage on my own in the tub.”

“The hell you will.” He was pouring pink liquid from a small cut crystal flagon that he had snatched from a tray on the side of the tub, and the water exploded into millions of bubbles. “I’ll bathe you myself and then I’ll know you’re all right.”

“You’re pouring in too much bubble bath.”

He continued to tilt the liquid into the already soapy water. “You’re wrong there,” he said grimly. “There can’t be too many bubbles in the world at the moment.” He set the empty container on the side of the tub, tested the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot, turned off the faucets, and rose lithely to his feet. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

He swung her off the vanity, his fingers unbuttoning the top button of her negligee with total impersonality.

Zilah felt a shiver run through her that had nothing to do with her nudity as he stripped the filmy negligee off her and then picked her up. He was so remote, so cold. She had never imagined Daniel could be so cold. “You don’t have to bother. Once I’m in the tub I’ll be able-”

“Zilah,” Daniel said between his teeth. “Shut up!”

Then she was being lowered carefully into the mountains and mountains of soap bubbles. She sneezed. “I knew you were using too much bubble bath. I’m practically drowning in bubbles.”

He released her and stood up. He kicked his sandals off as he regarded her appraisingly. It was true. There wasn’t an inch of that lovely body visible. She was up to her chin in foam. He felt some of the tension drain out of him. “You look fine to me,” he said with a grin. “Kinda cute.”

She sneezed again. “Let some of the water out.”

“Nope, you’ll be in there for only a few minutes.” He was settling himself on the first step leading down into the sunken tub. He tossed her a sponge and a bar of soap. “Come here and sit between my knees. You take care of the bath while I wash your hair. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said happily as she moved to sit between his naked thighs on the first step. It had to have been her imagination. There was nothing cold or stern about Daniel now. “I don’t have much choice if I’m to get out of this tub before I’m smothered by bubbles.”

“Lean back. Your hair needs to be wetter.” He was leisurely pouring shampoo into her hair, playing with the fragrant foam, making elaborate peaks and twirls. “You would have made a terrific eighteenth-century court lady. Those high white wigs would have suited you.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She was contentedly running the sponge over her neck and shoulders. “You do have a passion for bubbles, don’t you? It’s going to take you a long time to rinse all the soap out of my hair. I bet you spent hours in the tub playing with your toys when you were a kid.”

“We were allowed precisely seven minutes in the showers at the orphanage. No baths. No rubber ducks,” he said matter-of-factly. He was gently rubbing the shampoo into her hair. “It wasn’t considered efficient with a mob of hellions like us.”

She felt the tears sting her eyes and blinked them away determinedly. “And were you the hellion they thought you?”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “I was well on my way to reform school when I decided to join the army and see the world.” His hands momentarily paused. “The only part of the world I saw on that tour of duty was Nam, and it wasn’t a very pretty world.” His fingers slowly renewed their massage, but his voice was abstracted. “But I learned to survive in it. I was always a survivor. If I had any special talent, it was the ability to adapt and make situations work for me.” His hands fell away from her and his voice was suddenly brisk. “I did make them work for me, and there are plenty of people who would criticize some of the ways I did it. I’m not making excuses and I don’t intend to. I lived hard because it was the only way I knew how to live.”

“You’re very defensive,” she said softly. “And you shouldn’t be. Not with me. I know the kind of man you are. Whatever you did, it was in order to survive.” She drew a deep breath. “I understand about surviving.”