Every bloody inch, and for some spots, he wasn’t averse to not using the linen, but rather his tongue. The water splashed in minute waves as she brought her knees to her chest, leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around them, placing her cheek against them, revealing the delicate expanse of her back. “I suspect you weren’t able to reach here earlier.”

“No, not all of it.”

Setting the linen aside, he rubbed the soap between his hands until it nearly slipped from his grasp. After putting the soap within easy reach, he spread his hands wide and laid them against the center of her back. Slowly he glided them up and over her shoulders, down and across her hips. Her low moan caused him to smile. “Like that?”

“Very much. I have a feeling it’s very, very dirty and is going to need you to go over it several times.”

It was the most lighthearted thing she’d said since the early hours of the morning, and his chest expanded with pleasure and triumph. Easing up, he rested his lips against her ear, relishing the feel of the damp tendril that had escaped her bun catching in his whiskers. “Feeling cleaner?”

“Remarkably so. You touch me as though he doesn’t matter.”

“He doesn’t. You are your own woman, Fancy. I knew that the moment I first walked into your shop and saw you.” With the pads of his thumbs and fingers, he kneaded her shoulders and back, her skin slick and like silk beneath his touch.

She groaned. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

“The other ways I’ve touched you . . . have you experienced them?”

Turning her head slightly, she looked back with a mischievous smile on her face that brought him more joy than anything else in his life ever had. “I’d accuse you of taking liberties, but I’m afraid it would make you stop.”

“I won’t stop until you tell me to.”

“Then we’ll be here until dawn.”

“The water will grow cold. It’s already cooling.”

“But you’ll warm me, won’t you?”

In ways he shouldn’t. “I’ll always warm you.”

“Are you dirty, Matthew?”

His breath hitched, his lungs froze. Danger lurked on the horizon, and he ignored it. “I certainly can be.”

She gave a little laugh, twisted slightly, and reached back for him. “I want your entire body to wash all of mine.”

“Fancy, my resistance to you is weakening by the minute. I want you to know that to me you are no different today than you were yesterday. But if I shed my trousers and climb into that tub—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I know. But I want to feel clean inside and out. I want to be clean all over.”