Lottie gave herself a shake and cut off another piece of chicken, but as she began to chew, Alec started humming the “Major-General’s Song” from The Pirates of Penzance.

Lottie began to mutter the lyrics while she ate, all in a losing battle to distract herself.

I am the very model of a modern Major-General,

I’ve information vegetable, animal, and mineral…

The light splashing was now accompanied by the steady sound of scrubbing as Alec soaped his body. An image of tanned, soap-lathered skin flashed through her mind. Lottie shook her head and continued to focus on the lyrics.

I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical

From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical—

Lottie had nearly gotten through the entire song while Alec hummed and scrubbed and rinsed until she thought she might go mad. Finally, blessed silence returned and Lottie let out a little sigh of relief. But it was only for a moment.

Then the sloshing grew to a furious crescendo as Alec rose. Before she even knew what she was doing, Lottie turned around. Like the screen in her room the night before, Alec’s shadow was clearly visible; Lottie was spared the most intimate details, but there was still plenty to see. Alec’s usually wavy hair now hung in wet ringlets around his head, and the curved lines of his arms were exposed as he reached back to scratch his neck. Water cascaded down his body as he bent over to grab a towel off the chair and wrapped it around his trim waist. As Alec stepped out from behind the screen, the sight of his bare chest was so riveting that Lottie failed to turn around in time. Alec glanced over and immediately froze. He caught her full on gawking. With her mouth hanging open.

Alec had always appreciated the female gaze. Watching a woman admire his appearance was, in his opinion, an underrated pleasure. Vastly more erotic than having someone submit to his own desires. But when he stepped out from behind the screen and found Lottie staring at him with such obvious lust, it felt like a torture designed by a particularly vengeful god: being wanted by the one woman he could never have.

Alec had gone days without sleeping or eating. Had marched for miles through oppressive, unbearable heat with only the hope of water. Had played (and won) an eight-hour game of poker against two men with separate orders to kill him afterward.

But he was not strong enough for this.

Her pale blue confection, with its well-placed bows and lacy undergown, was a far cry from the sensible skirts and blouses she had worn the previous two days. It was just the right combination of sweet and sensual; the overrobe gave the appearance of demure innocence while the open front still called attention to those delicate curves that lay beneath only a few flimsy layers. For once, Alec had been grateful for a tepid bath.

Now his scalp tingled with the kind of predatory awareness big cats must feel when they spot a tasty gazelle. A fleeting look, a suggestive remark, or an accidental touch was one thing, but Alec had not prepared to be outright ogled by her.