Page 8 of Defy the Highlander

Her words were cut off as she found herself looking at the rear view of a naked man. His filthy clothes were in a pile at his feet and he was standing next to the tub. Startled, she tried to turn around quickly to block her view of the man’s nude arse but she ended up dumping the soap and the linens, barely saving the food in the basket. She heard a laugh behind her.

“Ye sent me a bath, lass,” he said. “Am I not supposed tae use it?”

Lilia could hear water sloshing behind her as he climbed into the tub. “Of course ye are,” she said, feeling her cheeks flame with embarrassment. “Ye should have told me… that is, I could have waited outside while ye removed yer clothing.”

“I suppose it dinna occur tae me,” he said. “I doesna matter now, anyway. Ye can turn around. My modesty is protected.”

Timidly, she turned around to see that he was, indeed, sitting in the copper tub. She could see him from the waist up which, in truth, wasn’t a better view than his naked buttocks had been. She should have been permanently traumatized by that sight but, somehow, she wasn’t.

It had been unexpectedly tantalizing.

Setting the basket of food down on the ground, she went to collect the linens and soap that she’d dumped. She extended the soap to him and he reached out, taking it from her.

“Do I smell that bad?” he asked.

“Bad enough that ye’ll start attracting flies if ye dunna wash up.”

He grinned, splashing water over his head and upper body, going to work with a soap that smelled of mint and rosemary. It was hard soap, rare in these times, and produced a good deal of white, slick residue. He scrubbed his head and face with it vigorously.

“What kind of soap is this?” he asked, foam all over his face.

“Savon d’alep,” she replied. “Soap from The Levant. Have ye not heard of it? Lady Currie has it sent all the way from Rome. Everyone here uses it because she says she canna stand the smell of anything else.”

Satisfied, he continued to scrub, smelling at the frothy bar. “Nay, I’ve not heard of it.”

“How does yer head feel?”

He splashed water all over his face and hair, rinsing out the soapy residue. “Better,” he said. “It was kind of ye tae bring me here. Ye dinna have tae.”

“I know,” she said, watching him splash. “But as I said, ’twas my fault ye couldna walk. I had tae make amends.”

“Ye have a big heart, lass.”

Lilia watched him use the soap on his arms, hands, and chest. Thoughts of the glimpse of his naked buttocks filled her mind again but instead of chasing them away, she lingered on them. Muscular buttocks that had been smooth and white, something that made her feel the least bit heated to recall. She had to lick her lips to moisten them because thoughts of the man’s nude form dried out her mouth as she sucked in air. She found herself standing back by the door because it was safer that way.

Safer for whom?

Lilia had to ask herself that question. In truth, as she watched him, she could see the diamond emerging from all of that filth. The man had enormous shoulders and arms, muscular and beautiful, and beneath that growth of hair on his face, she could imagine that he was truly handsome. He had a square jaw and a profile that looked like it came from one of those Greek gods on the vases that Lady Currie had on display.

Why had she brought him back here? Was it really because she felt guilty?

Or was it something else?

“Ye never did tell me yer name,” she said after a moment. “Ye already know mine.”

“My name is Brody.”

“Where do ye come from, Brody?”

He was busy splashing and washing. “The Highlands.”

“Then why are ye in Edinburgh? Ye said ye had no home.”

He didn’t answer her for a moment. He continued scrubbing his body, now with a big leg on the side of the tub. “I dunna,” he said. “Not here in Edinburgh, anyway.”

Lilia watched that big leg as he washed it. “Then ye came tae Edinburgh tae do nothing but live in alleys and save women from sausage thieves?”

He smiled weakly. “I suppose I came here for the same reason most men do,” he said. “Tae find an opportunity.”