“Nay.”
Well, that answer was short and to the point. She stood and lifted her chin defiantly. She was Esme, Lady of Evergreen. Let him do what he would with her. He could not take away her pride. Still, she whistled softly.
Actually… she soon changed her tune.
With a new dollop of soft soap, he lathered her abdomen and belly, then spent a great amount of time on her woman’s fleece and the private folds between her legs. Even the crease of her buttocks got his attention. The rogue knew what he was about, too, because he touched her in places and in ways that only an expert libertine would know of. If she had not realized it before, she did now… she was way beyond her depth with this man.
She licked her suddenly dry lips and glanced at him.
To her satisfaction, she saw him lick his own lips. The Viking was equally affected by this little game of his. She was surprised that he did not grab for her, but she should not have been. He was an experienced man. His moves would be smoother than that.
Handing her a linen cloth, he said, “Dry yourself, Esme. We have a contract to discuss.”
“What kind of contract?” she asked as she put the cloth to good use, then stepped out of the tub and used it to shield herself.
He grinned at her sad attempt at modesty after what he’d just seen and done. “Your punishment contract,” he said as he pulled the tub toward the door, then dumped the water outside. After that, he brought more wood inside and built up the fire.
Finally he answered her as he began to disrobe himself.
“You kept me captive here for ten days. I figure that turnabout is fair play. Ten for ten. Except that you bit my lip that one time, which brings you up to eleven days, and your attempt at escape certainly counts for at least two more days. So your debt is thirteen days minus the two already spent here for a total of eleven days.”
“You should wipe my debt out totally for having forced me to take such drastic measures in the first place.”
“What kind of feminine illogic is that?”
“Men just don’t recognize that women have brains.”
“It’s not your brain I’m interested in.”
“Have I ever mentioned that you are a loathsome lout?”
“About a hundred times. I consider it a compliment, coming from you.”
She reminded herself not to give him that “compliment” again.
He stood then, totally nude, and she couldn’t keep herself from staring. The man was magnificent, from his blond hair which lay about his shoulders to his perfectly proportioned body. Actually, one body part seemed a little out of proportion with the rest. How could the Viking speak so calmly to her when he had that sticking out from him, like a flag waving its interest?
“Here is the deal I am offering you, Esme. For every time you initiate and make love to me, I will take off one day.”
“Define making love.”
He laughed. “My cock in one of your hot, wet orifices.”
She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but the smirk on his face told her that asking might not be a good idea. “What do you mean by my initiating loveplay?”
“You start it. You do the work. Unless I agree to take over betimes, which I probably would on occasion, unless you beg me to do something particularly wicked. Mostly, it is in your hands.”
“My hands? Hah! I wouldn’t have a clue how to make love to a man.”
“Learn. Do what comes naturally. Bloody hell, just touch me and I will probably explode. I have not been with a woman for a year, Esme. Believe me, I will not be picky.”
There was probably a half-insult in there. “If any woman would suffice, why me?”
He shook his head at her. “I did not say any woman would suffice. I want you.”
It took all her willpower not to ask “Why?” What she did say was, “You are suggesting that I sell my body.”