—the journal of Blanche La Tour Chapter Thirty-two “My bath?” Lucian said with a hard blink. “Of course, you need a bath, too,” she purred. “Those are fresh linens on the bed. Don’t you think fresh, clean bodies should romp on them?” Romp? God, yes. He stood with alacrity and peeled out of his frock coat. He was already fumbling with his waistcoat buttons when Daisy’s laughter stopped him. “In good time, milord,” she said. “This tub is only big enough for one.” He eyed it in randy speculation. “I can think of at least three ways we could both fit. I’m certain more will come to me if I put my mind to it.” She grinned wickedly. “Later, perhaps,” she promised. “For now, I simply want you to relax and enjoy your bath. Would you please bring me that towel over there?” Relaxing and enjoyment didn’t seem to go together in his mind at present, but he did as she bade. The Turkish cloth, with its tiny little loops and silk-embroidered hems, was draped over her vanity chair.
What do You think about Vexing The Viscount (2009)?
