Rather quickly she began to feel the increasingly familiar sensation of having swallowed golden butterflies. As a result, her fingers were clumsy when she went to work on the buttons up the back of her dress. Even worse, her arms simply refused to flex more than a few inches. Her muscles were too tight after hours of scrubbing to have any flexibility left.

With a stifled, frustrated sound, she hooked her fingers in either side of the opening at the back of her neck and yanked. Buttons tore free and fell soundlessly onto the thick wool throw rug by the bed.

Warm, hard fingers brushed Jessica’s hands aside. Wolfe began unbuttoning the dress in a silence that thickened with each jet button sliding free of its tiny hole. Finally, nothing but the long sleeves were holding the dress in place. The exquisite lace of Jessica’s silk camisole revealed more than it concealed of the skin beneath.

«Thank you,» Jessica said breathlessly. «I can manage now.»

«Don’t you want me to bathe you?»

«No, that won’t be necessary thank you,» she said, running the words together in her rush to have them spoken.

Wolfe’s long finger traced the length of Jessica’s spine. «Are you certain?»

She shivered as an odd tingling rippled through her at his touch. «Yes.»

Wolfe’s finger paused before retracing every bit of its journey as he asked, «Yes, you’re certain you want to be bathed?»

Jessica made a small sound as curious sensations flared unnervingly in the pit of her stomach. «No, I can bathe myself.»

«If you change your mind, call me.»

As soon as the door closed behind Wolfe, she let out a long breath she hadn’t been aware of holding and began stripping off her clothes with more haste than care. With the pot of soft, rose-scented soap in one hand and the sponge in the other, she stepped into the tub.

A delicious shivering went over her as she lowered herself into the water’s hot embrace. The tremor of sheer pleasure was very much what she had felt at the long, slow stroking of Wolfe’s fingertip down her spine. The realization was almost as unnerving as his touch had been. Quickly, she ducked beneath the water to wet her hair before she began rubbing soap into it.

By the time Jessica had rinsed and begun to work a second round of soap into her hair, the quivering reluctance of her arm muscles abruptly changed into something more alarming. Her arms locked in a half-raised position. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t raise them any farther. In fact, she couldn’t even hold them upright.

Soap began trickling down her face and into her eyes as her arms fell uselessly to her sides.

«Wolfe,» Jessica cried out. «Something is wrong with my arms!»

Afraid to open her eyes because of the soap, Jessica didn’t know Wolfe had come into the room until she felt a warm cloth moving over her face. She flinched in surprise.

«Be still, Jessi,» Wolfe said. «I won’t hurt you.»

«I know. You just startled me. My arms, Wolfe. I can’t —»

«Yes, I can see,» he interrupted.

He ran his hands gently over her arms. The slender muscles were knotted and hard beneath her smooth skin.

«Do you hurt?» he asked.

Jessica shook her head. «Not really. I think the muscles have just declared a holiday. The same thing happened to my legs that day I tried to jump the creek the way you had. Remember?»

Wolfe smiled slightly. «How many times did you try?»

«I don’t know. I spent most of the morning running and jumping.»

«And landing in the water.»

«And landing in the water,» she agreed, sighing. «It made me angry that you could fly so easily over the creek time and again and I couldn’t do it even once. That night I couldn’t walk.»

«You never told me.»

«I was too proud.»

«Just as you were too proud to tell me today that you couldn’t work any more.»

Jessica said nothing.

«I’ll take care of the soap on your face, first,» Wolfe said. «Your arms can wait. Tilt your head back and keep your eyes closed.»

The gentleness of Wolfe’s voice was matched by his fingers sliding into Jessica’s soapy hair and easing her head back while he blotted up the last of the lather.

«No, don’t open your eyes yet. I haven’t gotten all the soap out.»

Jessica heard the sound of cloth being rinsed, felt the swirling of water over her breasts, and blushed at the reminder of her own nakedness. Water ran warmly over her closed eyes, down her cheeks, down her neck.

Wolfe watched each golden trail of moisture with something approaching envy. He wanted to be that close to her, that warm on her skin, licking over her without hindrance.

And he was a fool to want any part of her at all.

«Do your eyes sting?»

«No,» Jessica said hesitantly, wondering at the leashed anger in Wolfe’s voice.

«Keep them dosed until I rinse your hair.»

«You don’t have to. I can —»

«You can’t do a bloody thing,» he interrupted impatiently. «The muscles in your arms have cramped. Take a breath.»

Jessica barely had drawn a breath before her body was shifted and her head was pushed under the warm water. Unlike Wolfe, she was almost able to stretch out in the narrow tub.

Working quickly, Wolfe stripped out lather and swirled clean water through the long mahogany strands until all the soap was gone. Only then did he prop her head above the water against the tub.

«That should do it.»

Jessica tried to push a stray lock of hair from her eyes, but her arms still wouldn’t cooperate. When she tried again, the struggle brought the pink tips of her breasts above the level of the water. Immediately, her nipples tightened against the cool air of the room.

When Wolfe looked down, he wished he hadn’t. His body hardened in a rush that would have brought him to his knees if he had been standing. But he wasn’t. He was kneeling next to an aristocratic little nun who had worked so hard at unaccustomed tasks that her arms had given out. He would have felt worse about being such a savage taskmaster, except that Jessica’s revenge, while unintentional, was complete. The memory of her breasts tipped by tight coral crowns would haunt him without mercy.

«Useless blue-blooded nun,» Wolfe said through gritted teeth. «Take another breath.»

«I didn’t mean to do this,» Jessica said, stung by the tone of Wolfe’s voice. «Between the clothes and the kitchen floor, I —»

The words ended in sputtering sounds as Wolfe lowered Jessica’s head into the water. Moments later, he hauled her into an upright position once more. With swift, efficient movements, he lifted her long hair and squeezed water from it.

«Where is your towel?» he asked.

There was silence followed by a sigh as she admitted, «I was so eager to get into the water I forgot about getting out again.»

«Hold your hair out of the water while I get — damn, you can’t lift your arms.»

Wolfe draped Jessica’s hair over the edge of the tub and down onto the bricks.

«Don’t move. If you slipped under the water, you’d probably drown. I’ll be right back.»

Moments later, Wolfe came back into the room carrying linen towels and a soft cotton flannel blanket. He dried Jessica’s hair as best he could, wrapped it in the length of linen, and tucked everything on top of her head in a neat turban.

«How are your arms doing?»

«Fine, as long as I don’t try to move them.»

Wolfe turned aside, picked up the sponge, and began soaping it. He washed her back, shoulders, and arms, rinsed her, and began soaping the sponge once more.

«Don’t panic, little nun.»

«What?»

The breath stopped in Jessica’s throat as she felt the sponge gliding over her collar bones, her breasts, her ribs, her belly.

«Lift one leg,» he said as he soaped the sponge once more.

«Wolfe,» she said faintly.

«Just brace your foot against the lip of the tub the way I did. Don’t worry. I won’t let you drown.»