The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(84)

Tears stinging the backs of her eyes, Daphne fell to her knees next to him, rose up, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Of course I’ll marry you again, Captain Rafferty Cavendish. Of course I will.”

He stood and picked her up and twirled her round and round. Then he kissed her deeply. “Will you come to bed with me?”

She glanced at the bed next to his leg. “We’re nearly there.”

He looked almost boyish, vulnerable, and Daphne loved him for it. “You know what I mean.”

She smiled at him. “I don’t even have to strip this time to convince you?”

“Not a chance.”

“And you no longer think of me as a sister?” she taunted.

He shook his head. “Oh, love. I never thought of you as a sister. I only told you that because I decided it was better for my career and my longevity than having your brothers beat me to a pulp. There wouldn’t have been enough left of me for the French if Donald had found out that I’d defied him.”

Her mouth fell open. “You never thought of me as a sister? But you wouldn’t even kiss me and you let me think—”

Rafe stopped her words by pulling her into his arms and kissing her again. “Seeing you in those breeches every day has been unholy torture.”

A catlike grin curled across her lips. She wrinkled her nose slyly. “It was?”

He blinked at her from beneath his dark lashes. “Trust me. Unholy. Torture.”

She pulled at her dusty cravat. “Want to see me undress again?”

He arched a brow. “By all means, but first, I’ve ordered a bath.”

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. Rafe made his way over and opened it. Two servants marched in bearing a clawfoot tub. Soon after, bucket after bucket of hot water arrived, carried by serving maids. The maids glanced between Daphne and Rafe and gave Daphne tentative smiles. Daphne grinned back at them without shame.

After all of the servants left, the steaming bath remained in the center of the room. Rafe nodded toward Daphne. “You first,” he insisted with a wicked grin. “Besides, after I get in, the water is sure to turn black. I have soot in places I don’t even want to contemplate.”

The servants had left a stick of soap and some linens on a stool next to the tub. Daphne hadn’t taken a proper bath in days. She was only too eager to slide into the steamy water. She ripped off her shirt and shimmied out of her breeches while Rafe groaned. Her boots and stockings were already long gone. She’d removed them while the servants were setting up the bath.

Completely nude and enjoying the way her husband’s eyes devoured her by candlelight, she slipped into the hot water with a long sigh.

Rafe sat on the bed and watched her. “You’re gorgeous, Mrs. Cavendish.”

She somehow managed to put her hair into a bun atop her head, a few tendrils falling down around her shoulders. She turned her head and gave her husband a wide smile. “I like the sound of that: Mrs. Cavendish.”

Rafe put his hands to his cravat and began untying it. “Yes, well, you may be a widow, sooner than later, if Julian isn’t in an understanding mood when we return.”

“He will be,” she said with a nod, pulling the soap from the stool and lathering her arms and neck.

“How can you be so sure?” Rafe’s cravat came off in a quick tug and he unbuttoned his shirt. Daphne unabashedly watched him undress as she continued to lather herself, moving to her knees and legs.

“I’ll just tell him it’s what I want.” She blushed beautifully. “Er, I mean, I’ll explain to him that we’re already married and we’re grown adults, and … well, Julian is reasonable.”

Rafe shook his head. “I can only hope he’ll be reasonable about this.”

She quirked a finger at him. “Come and help me with my bath, husband.”

“With pleasure.” Rafe stood and made his way over to sit on the stool next to her. He picked up the linens and laid them over his knee.

Daphne eyed his muscular chest and shoulders. She’d never get tired of looking at him. He gently took the soap from her hand and dipped it into the water next to her hip. “This is quite a sight,” he murmured, staring down into the water.

“What is?” Daphne glanced down at herself to see her nipples barely skimming the water’s surface. “Oh.”

“The perfection of your body,” he replied, not taking his gaze from her.

Daphne blushed. She sat forward while Rafe rubbed the soap between his hands and lathered her shoulders. Then she leaned back against the tub and closed her eyes as he turned his attention to her front. She moaned when he brushed against her nipples.

“I owe you an apology,” he said softly.

She blinked one eye open. “An apology? You?”

“Yes, me. I told you that you wouldn’t be of help if you came with us. You saved the mission.”

Daphne closed her eye again and settled back against the tub. “Salty says sometimes you need people more than you admit.”

“Salty’s right,” Rafe admitted.

He soaped her belly while Daphne clenched her muscles there and shamelessly wished his hand would dip lower.

“I need you,” he whispered, leaning down and kissing her mouth gently.

“I need you, too.”