Her eyes flew open to see the duke standing at the door to his chamber. Sarani’s breath fizzled in her throat. His coat and waistcoat were gone as was his cravat, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing thick, muscular forearms. Her mouth dried as he walked toward her, sitting on the carved built-in mahogany bench at the end of the bath. He reached for a cloth and dipped it into the water.

“What are you doing?” she asked over her shoulder, watching as he wrung it out and rubbed a bit of soap on it.

He grinned, his eyes flashing. “Seeing to my duties as a good cabin boy and washing your back. May I?”

“I suppose I could get used to this.” She nodded and bit back a groan when the cloth grazed her nape.

“Lean forward and put your arms around your knees.”

Doing as he asked, Sarani sighed in contentment as he rubbed the cloth over her shoulders, leaving a rash of gooseflesh in its wake. His strong fingers massaged the soap into her skin with small, ever-expanding sweeps, and she couldn’t hold back her moan when they dug deep into the tense muscles of her back. She was nearly purring like a kitten as his hands worked their way down her spine.

After a while, the only sounds were their combined breathing and the soft slosh of the water as he worked the knots out until Sarani was limp and boneless. At some point, he’d discarded the cloth, and it was skin to skin. His fingers caressed her sides, up her ribs, tantalizingly near the slope of her breasts beneath the water, and she shivered.

When he gently tugged back on her shoulders so that she was lying with her nape resting on the lip of the tub, his slippery hands moved down her clavicles in tiny circles. Each sensual dip brought them closer to her tautened breasts. Her nipples ached in anticipation of his touch, and when he finally slid his wet palms over them, Sarani couldn’t swallow her whimper fast enough, arching into his touch and eyes finding his.

His gaze stormed into hers, blue fires lit in his smoldering irises. The blue had darkened almost entirely to slate gray with desire. “Do you have any idea how exquisite you are?”

Words failed her at the possessive look on his face. The slippery feeling of his hands on her skin was intensified as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers until every inch of her was aflame with arousal. He didn’t release her eyes, and Sarani felt the pressure start to build deep in her core, just from the combination of his touch and the intensity of his stare.

“Kiss me, Rhystan,” she whispered.