Page 87 of Ruthless, But for Her

“Where is Tam?” Ashton asked.

Cassia had just stripped down to her shift and was using the water she’d brought from the well in the yard to wash herself. She’d heard the footsteps but had assumed Tam had changed his mind about heading to Cuthbert’s.

“He’s gone for the night,” she said as Ashton climbed up the ladder to join her.

“I’ve known him to work well into the night.”

“Apparently not when there’s coin enough for Cuthbert’s.”

Ashton’s hair was wet and he wore only his shirt, unlaced at the throat. That was unusual for him.

“I’ve already washed,” he said. “You wish for a hot bath, I am certain?”

His hair appeared darker when it was wet. All day long, she’d thought about how she’d woken up in the night, their positions reversed, her hand on his head. She’d quickly moved it away despite wanting to run her fingers through his hair, down over his shoulder to stroke his arm the way he’d stroked hers.

“Cassia—”

His voice, thick with emotion, sounded very unlike him.

Throughout the day, she’d thought of what Margot had told her. Thought of the question she didn’t want to ask, and the one she hadn’t allowed her mind to fully formulate.

“What of my father?” she asked instead, pulling up her sleeve to wash her arm. She’d put a bit of lavender in the water, taken from the things Ashton had brought from the Daisy.

Ashton pulled the wooden chair in front of him, sitting on it backwards as he watched her.

“There is no need for a trip to Alnwick. Your father was headed home, to Grantchester, according to our scout.”

“He’s going home.”

“Aye. It seems so.”

“Good,” she said, attempting to push the sleeve higher.

“You could do a much more thorough job of that if you removed your shift.”

Ashton was teasing her. It was as if they were back in the Wild Boar, that day of their visit to the village. Here, in Mere’s End, she could see that duty weighed on him. He was once again the man who was unable to let his guard down.

“Perhaps you could do it for me?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Cassia wished them back. She’d never said something so provocative or forward... But he’d teased her and Cassia wished to tease him back.

The look on his face told Cassia he’d not taken her suggestion in jest. And perhaps, his comment had not been either. But she assumed... Since the Wild Boar, they hadn’t spoken of their intimacies. But now?

He pushed from his chair, swinging it to the side and setting it down on the floor of the loft.

By the time he reached her, she knew what she wanted. She thought he would reach for the cloth, but instead, he looked her in the eyes, as if waiting for her to tell him to stop. But she wanted this too, and reached for the hem of her shift.

In one swift movement that left Cassia breathless, he lifted it from her, leaving her fully nude before him.

This time, she did not cover herself. If there was one person in the world who would accept her body as it was, even with imperfections she tried not to care about...it was Ashton.

He looked at her in a way no one ever had. Not one of her suitors. Not Roland. She’d been admired before, but not in such a way.

Ashton dipped the cloth in water, squeezed it, and continued her cleansing. It was an entirely different thing than bathing herself. He began with her arms and shoulders, spinning her around and moving her hastily bound plait over her shoulder. Without a word, he ran the cloth over her back, dipped it in water and wrung it out again.

When he reached her backside, Ashton slid the cloth along her curves, his fingers on each side of the cloth whispering against her flesh.

“Turn around, Cassia.”