Jessica opened her mouth to object that it was her own bath she was speaking about, not his, but Wolfe was talking again.

«You’re right,» he continued. «I’ve been looking forward to a bath much more than to eating whatever dinner you cooked. Clever of you to realize it.»

«We non-paragons do our best,» she said between her teeth.

«I’ll remind you of that while you scrub my back.» Wolfe smiled at the furious young woman suspended between his strong, dark hands.

«Tell me, husband dear, are all paragons also Amazons?»

«Willow is only an inch or two taller than you.»

«But broad in the shoulders and thick in the arms?» Jessica suggested sweetly.

«She’s as delicate and feminine as her name-sake.»

«Then how does she get hot water to her bath — one delicate demitasse at a time?»

«Paragons don’t have to carry hot water to their baths. Nature does it for them.»

«Ah, I knew it,» Jessica purred. «She’sawitch.»

Wolfe pressed his lips together firmly, determined not to let Jessica beguile him with her quick mind and quicker tongue.

«Nothing that sinister,» he said smoothly. «Caleb built their house near a hot spring. Reno put in pipes to the house.»

«Lacking a husband as clever as Caleb and a brother as skilled as Reno, I’ll have to manage getting hot water to my bath in the usual Western fashion — one bucket at a time.»

Wolfe measured the determination in Jessica’s eyes and knew she wouldn’t back down on this issue. He could either carry the pot for her or stand by and watch her pour two gallons of scalding water over herself.

«I’ll carry the bloody water,» he snarled.

Ten minutes later, Wolfe had filled the long, narrow tub, drawn more buckets to heat, and stoked the stove. He stripped off his clothes and lowered himself into the water.

«All right, your ladyship,» he called. «Come and wash your husband.»

«What?»

«Wash me,» Wolfe said impatiently. «That’s something even you should be able to manage.»

The stunned look on Jessica’s face as she came to the doorway should have made Wolfe laugh; instead, it made him angry. He had been looking forward to putting Lady Victoria’s advice towork: Teachthe little nun not to fear a man’s touch.

«Don’t worry, Sister Jessica,» Wolfe said curtly, turning his back as she edged up to the tub, «washing me won’t make you pregnant.»

She didn’t answer. She didn’t even hear Wolfe’s words. The sight of him naked in his bath had taken her breath away. She had been too shaken that night in Lord Stewart’s house to realize how physically magnificent Wolfe was, but now there was no wild panic or pain to distract her.

Now there was nothing but Wolfe’s tawny body gleaming with water and rippling with masculine power.

A curious heat stirred in the pit of Jessica’s stomach, as though she had swallowed a tiny butterfly with wings of golden flame. It reminded her of the hotel in St. Joseph, when the feel of Wolfe brushing her hair had sent heat and pleasure cascading through her.

There’s passion in you, Jessi.

Fear burst in Jessica, chilling the soft heat that had come at the sight of Wolfe sitting in his bath.

I can’t be passionate. I’m not some stupid lamb frisking off to slaughter. If my stomach feels odd, it’s because I’m so tired I’m cross-eyed.

«I’m waiting, wife,» Wolfe said.

Jessica opened her mouth. All that came out was a breathless sound. Wolfe rose from the dark, gently steaming water of the bathtub like a torso by an Italian sculptor: smoothly muscled, poised, powerful, quintessentially masculine in its elegance.

Candlelight rippled over sleek flesh like sunlight over water, heightening the play of muscle beneath skin that was as fine-grained as amber. The combination of stark male power and equally stark male beauty sent heat rushing through Jessica, shortening her breath, making her feel as though Wolfe were running his hands over her.

The thought was both frightening and fascinating. With fingers that trembled, Jessica scooped up soft, rose-scented soap and began rubbing it into Wolfe’s hair. For a few moments, there was silence except for the splashing of water when Wolfe shifted in the tub and the soft, whispering sounds of Jessica’s fingers as she worked rose-scented soap into Wolfe’s hair.

Little of Wolfe was visible but his head, shoulders, and much of his back. The rest of him was hardly more than a golden blur beneath water that looked black but for streaks of lather and the shimmering of candlelight across the water’s surface.

Despite the aching of her arms after hours of scrubbing, Jessica found that she enjoyed washing the thick, black pelt of Wolfe’s hair. Working her hands through it caressed the sensitive inner surfaces of her fingers. The heat and softness of the lather sliding over her hands was another lure. When she went from his scalp to the taut skin of his neck, she found herself wanting to stroke him, testing his strength and resilience.

The golden butterfly in Jessica’s stomach spread its wings again, sending heat streaking through her, making her catch her breath in pleasure.

No, not abutterfly, shetold herselfharshly.It’sa moth. A stupid little thing flying around a greathotflame, never knowing that the next second could be the last!

Fear and passion warred within Jessica, making her tremble. Despite that, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to spiral closer and closer to the flame, letting fire consume her to her very core.

Wolfe shifted abruptly, sending dark waves lapping at the sides of the tub. The slow rubbing of Jessica’s fingers over his scalp was causing a heat greater than that of the bath water to gather between his legs.

«Am I doing it correctly?» Jessica asked.

The sound of her own voice alarmed her. It was much too husky, reflecting the tug-of-war between ingrained fear and blossoming desire. She enjoyed touching Wolfe far too much. Yet she was willing to risk it. Being close to him was an incredible lure.

«Yes,» Wolfe answered. «You’re doing very well.»

His voice was deep, dark, warm. It made Jessica feel as though she had been caressed. Gentle fingertips traced the line of Wolfe’s neck and shoulders. Muscles bunched and slid beneath skin that was the color of gold brushed with copper. The power in him fascinated Jessica, for he took it as much for granted as he did the air he breathed. She couldn’t take him for granted in that way. Not any longer. The realization made her tremble.

«W-what did you do before I came here?» Jessica asked hurriedly.

Wolfe closed his eyes and fought the primal stirring of his body at the husky music of Jessica’s voice and the magic of her fingers transforming him. Then he shrugged and let it happen, knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

«I hunted, bought, sold, bred, and trained horses,» he said.

Jessica’s hands paused. «But there are no horses here, save for the one you purchased with the wagon in Denver.»

«I sold all but my best horses when I decided to go to England for your engagement ball.»

«Where are the rest of your horses?»

«At Caleb’s. I spent most of the year there, helping him build his house. In return, he and Willow are taking care of the mares for me. They’ll be bred by her Arabian stallion.»

«Are they all mustangs?»

«Yes. One of them is an extraordinary animal, elegant and strong, fierce and intelligent. She’s the color ofsteeldust. She’ll be the foundation of my future herd.»

«When will you bring your horses back here?»

«I don’t think I will. This side of the Rockies is getting too settled. It’s time for me to pull up stakes and move on.»

«Too settled? You’re joking.»

«No. For the most part I get along all right with ranchers and soldiers, but townspeople take a narrow view ofhalfbreeds. If anything goes wrong, they come looking for the nearest Indian to blame.»