Shadow's Claim

The look in his eyes told her that he was leaning toward the latter.

To have this male running soap all over her naked body . . . ? What would that be like?

Gaze dropping to her neck, he said, "I could demand far worse than this."

Such as a drink? Was that what he'd meant when he'd said, "possess you in every way"?

"Bettina, you didn't have to agree to our bargain."

"Of course I did. I would have done anything to save Caspion."

Some dark, primal emotion flashed over his face, and his arms tightened around her. "Have care, sorceress. You tread upon perilous ground."

She swallowed with fear. Strangely, not for herself, only for Caspion. "You still want him dead. So why save him earlier? It only increases the likelihood that you will have to kill him."

"If we're pitted against each other, I won't have a choice but to defeat him, so you'll be more likely to forgive me. If I hadn't saved him today, that would have been a choice you might not have forgiven. Besides, these favors will help me win your affections of my own accord-not simply because my competitor no longer exists."

"So that's what motivates you? Competition with Cas?"

He gave a humorless laugh. "Soon you'll find there is no competition with that demon. What motivates me is the lovely prize I'll possess." He set her away to begin unbuttoning his shirt. "And you'll stall no more." His gaze raked along her body as he began to bare his. Again, she fought the need to fan herself.

When Daciano removed his shirt, she turned away, but not before she got a look at his muscular chest in the firelight.

His skin was smooth-and completely unmarked from the melee. In the ring, he'd been saturated with blood. But only from others?

She also glimpsed that crystal around his neck. His clothing style was simple and unembellished; she wondered why he wore that lead.

Is he removing his boots?

Keeping her back to him as he undressed was more difficult than she would have supposed. What woman wouldn't crave seeing the vampire's body, especially after touching it in the dark the night before?

But for Bettina, it was even worse. She had an artist's eye, and right now that sensibility was clamoring to see this male naked. As a subject. Nothing more.

His pants landed over a chair to her right. She swallowed. He's naked in this tent with me.

When he descended into the water, she snapped, "I'm not doing this," even as she mused, I should have peeked.

"Then prepare for worse."

Her thoughts ran riot. Scrubbing his back was preferable to a thousand other things he could have demanded. "But I've never bathed anyone before."

"I'm confident you'll stumble your way through this."

She scowled up at the ceiling. Oh, how bad could a bath be? She would refuse to wash any part of him below the waist. I won't get caught up like I did last night.

Because this time she'd know he wasn't Cas.

"It counts as five boons," she said. Then she'd have only two left after this, and her greedy gaze could be appeased to an extent. His back was plenty to start out with.

"Three," he countered.

"Four."

"Agreed," he said.

Okay, only three left. With straightened shoulders, she turned toward the tub. I can do this. As she approached, she realized the water was sudsy and steaming, concealing his body from just below those developed pecs down.

Which was a good thing. It was.

She knelt behind him, beginning to remove one glove.

He turned sharply, twisting to watch her, as if he didn't want to miss even this small unveiling.

Flustered again. When she began to roll it down her arm, she did feel like she was stripping-for him. By the second glove, his eyes were flickering.

Once her arms were bared, he handed her a cloth and soap, and their fingers touched. Another current seemed to leap between them. He glanced up quickly, as if to gauge if she'd felt it too.

Whatever he saw appeared to satisfy him. At length he gave her his back.

In the steam, a few locks of his hair grew tousled about his neck. Black, black hair that gleamed like jet. His leather tie caught her attention. "You don't want to remove your crystal?"

"Never," was all he said.

She wondered where he'd gotten it. Had a former lover given it to him? "Fine." She assumed a businesslike demeanor, unwilling for him to know how much this prospect alternately excited and dismayed her. Soaping up the cloth, she rubbed it across smooth, taut skin from one of his shoulders to the other.

Repeat. He wasn't the only one who could be methodical. One shoulder to the other. Repeat.

Had that movement been a bit more leisurely? Perhaps; his muscles flexed in response.

He'd killed with those muscles. He'd killed for her.

Inward shake. Another sweep of the cloth. "Do you always have unwilling females bathe you?"

"You're a first in many regards." Without warning, he snagged the cloth from her. "Continue without it."

"Why?" Was that her voice sounding so breathless?

"You enjoyed touching me last night." He stretched his long arms along the sides of the tub. "It's my hope that you will again."

"This was your plan? You think to seduce me like this?"

"Yes."

How could one word hold so much confidence? She swallowed, but did continue running her palms over his shoulders and neck.