Page 17 of The Wolf Laird's Obsession
Two young maids appeared, carrying steaming buckets of water. Morag gestured toward the tub near the hearth.
“There now,” she said. “Problem solved.”
“Very well,” Sorcha relented stiffly.
The maids poured the hot water into the wooden tub, steam rising toward the rafters. Then they took a small bottle of oil, and poured them into the water, their floral scent drifting in the air.
After they poured the water, one of the maids placed folded clothes beside the tub. They looked at her expectantly, and she realized they were waiting for her to undress.
Heat rushed to her face. Her fingers tightened instinctively on the laces of her dress, but she did not move.
“I can manage from here,” she declared, trying to keep her tone polite. “Ye may leave the rest to me.”
The two maids hesitated, looking at Morag. Morag studied her for a moment, then waved the maids away with a small nod.
“Very well,” she said. “We’ll send up food shortly.”
Sorcha waited until their footsteps faded down the hall before letting her shoulders sink.
The day finally seemed to catch up with her.
Her legs throbbed from the fall into the grass, while the long ride left her body stiff and aching. She stepped toward the tub and tested the water with her fingers. The heat seeped into her chilled skin, making her sigh.
She stood there briefly, staring at the steam curling into the air. Rowan’s voice whispered in her head, Tonight.
She gripped the edge of the tub, trying to steady the sudden flutter in her chest.
Of course, he would say it so plainly, as if it were just another duty to be done. But that is what this is, is it nae? A duty.
Her fingers drifted absently to her wrist. For a fleeting moment, she could feel the ghost of his grip from earlier that day. The memory alone sent an unwelcome warmth through her chest.
Sorcha dropped her hand at once.
Ridiculous. The man had barely spoken to me the entire ride, and yet…
Her body betrayed her.
She remembered the way his arms had wrapped around her while they rode. The heat of his chest against her back.
She closed her eyes.
Why does me body have to remember that?
Sorcha shook her head and reached for the laces of her dress.
It meant nothing.
A faint rustle came from behind her, and her fingers stilled on the fabric.
I’m the only one here, am I nae?
She slowly straightened, her pulse quickening.
The attack in the field flashed through her mind, the men emerging from the trees.
“Who’s there?”
Silence answered her.
