“You’re pouring in too much bubble bath.”
He continued to tilt the liquid into the already soapy water. “You’re wrong there,” he said grimly. “There can’t be too many bubbles in the world at the moment.” He set the empty container on the side of the tub, tested the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot, turned off the faucets, and rose lithely to his feet. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
He swung her off the vanity, his fingers unbuttoning the top button of her negligee with total impersonality.
Zilah felt a shiver run through her that had nothing to do with her nudity as he stripped the filmy negligee off her and then picked her up. He was so remote, so cold. She had never imagined Daniel could be so cold. “You don’t have to bother. Once I’m in the tub I’ll be able-”
“Zilah,” Daniel said between his teeth. “Shut up!”
Then she was being lowered carefully into the mountains and mountains of soap bubbles. She sneezed. “I knew you were using too much bubble bath. I’m practically drowning in bubbles.”
He released her and stood up. He kicked his sandals off as he regarded her appraisingly. It was true. There wasn’t an inch of that lovely body visible. She was up to her chin in foam. He felt some of the tension drain out of him. “You look fine to me,” he said with a grin. “Kinda cute.”
She sneezed again. “Let some of the water out.”
“Nope, you’ll be in there for only a few minutes.” He was settling himself on the first step leading down into the sunken tub. He tossed her a sponge and a bar of soap. “Come here and sit between my knees. You take care of the bath while I wash your hair. Deal?”
“Deal,” she said happily as she moved to sit between his naked thighs on the first step. It had to have been her imagination. There was nothing cold or stern about Daniel now. “I don’t have much choice if I’m to get out of this tub before I’m smothered by bubbles.”
“Lean back. Your hair needs to be wetter.” He was leisurely pouring shampoo into her hair, playing with the fragrant foam, making elaborate peaks and twirls. “You would have made a terrific eighteenth-century court lady. Those high white wigs would have suited you.”
“I’m glad you think so.” She was contentedly running the sponge over her neck and shoulders. “You do have a passion for bubbles, don’t you? It’s going to take you a long time to rinse all the soap out of my hair. I bet you spent hours in the tub playing with your toys when you were a kid.”
“We were allowed precisely seven minutes in the showers at the orphanage. No baths. No rubber ducks,” he said matter-of-factly. He was gently rubbing the shampoo into her hair. “It wasn’t considered efficient with a mob of hellions like us.”
She felt the tears sting her eyes and blinked them away determinedly. “And were you the hellion they thought you?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “I was well on my way to reform school when I decided to join the army and see the world.” His hands momentarily paused. “The only part of the world I saw on that tour of duty was Nam, and it wasn’t a very pretty world.” His fingers slowly renewed their massage, but his voice was abstracted. “But I learned to survive in it. I was always a survivor. If I had any special talent, it was the ability to adapt and make situations work for me.” His hands fell away from her and his voice was suddenly brisk. “I did make them work for me, and there are plenty of people who would criticize some of the ways I did it. I’m not making excuses and I don’t intend to. I lived hard because it was the only way I knew how to live.”
“You’re very defensive,” she said softly. “And you shouldn’t be. Not with me. I know the kind of man you are. Whatever you did, it was in order to survive.” She drew a deep breath. “I understand about surviving.”
“Do you?” His voice was oddly choked. “Yes, I think you do.” There was a short, poignant silence before he spoke again with deliberate lightness. “Hell, you’ve certainly managed to survive any number of hazards since I came upon the scene. Hassan, scorpions, even me. I’d say that definitely qualifies you as a survivor.” He was standing abruptly. “Now, why don’t we see how good you are at surviving”-he lowered his voice to a melodramatic hiss-“the attack of the killer soap bubbles. Go ahead and rinse your hair beneath that faucet while I get you a towel.” He strode around the tub and across the room toward the louvered doors of a linen closet beside the shower stall.
He seemed to take a terribly long time choosing a towel, Zilah thought in puzzlement as she rinsed her hair thoroughly and tried to get as much of the foam as she could from her body. He kept his back to her as he went aimlessly through the stack of terry-cloth towels.
“I’m ready to get out.”
“I only hope I’m ready to get you out,” Daniel murmured beneath his breath as he yanked a white bath sheet from the pile in front of him. His face was set as he strode back toward her, unfolding the towel. She started to rise but had not even reached a standing position before she was enveloped in the terry-cloth sheet and lifted from the tub. There was nothing in the least intimate about the thorough rubdown Daniel gave her through the soft material of the towel. When he had finished, he wrapped the towel around her and tucked the ends in at her breasts. Then he grabbed another towel, dried her hair with the same brisk impersonality, and wound the towel around her still damp hair in a makeshift turban. He lifted her in his arms and strode back into the bedroom.
“I know this is terribly inconvenient for you,” she said falteringly. “I promise you won’t have to do it again. I’m sure I’ll be able to manage on my own tomorrow.”
“And have me worried out of my skull about you?” He placed her on the bed and covered her with the satin sheet. “You’re right. We’re going to have to work something else out. I can’t go through this every day. I’m not cut out to be a lady’s maid.”
Those foolish tears were misting her eyes again. It was stupid to feel hurt at his rejection. She tried to smile. “Well, you did an exceptionally good job, even if you did dislike it. It was very kind of you.”
“I did a lousy job,” he said bluntly. “And there’s nothing kind about me. I told you I was a survivor.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But I don’t think I could survive another session like this. I’ve got to talk to Philip about getting you a maid until you’re fit again.”
“There’s no reason to disrupt the sheikh’s household.” She lifted her chin. “And no reason for you to have to take care of me. Your responsibility ended when you brought me to Sedikhan.” She met his eyes steadily. “You mustn’t think you owe me anything, Daniel. I have no right to demand anything of you.”
A variety of emotions were chasing across Daniel’s face. Amusement, exasperation, and a fleeting something that might have been tenderness.
“Oh, hell, here we go again.” He plopped down on the bed beside her and gathered her hands in his. “We’d better get this in the open right now. I’m no good at beating around the bush.” He looked down at her hands clasped in his, a frown creasing his brow. “Look, what happened in the cave was a mistake. We both know that.” His thumb was absently rubbing the delicate blue veins of her wrist. “I just want you to know that there’s no danger of it ever happening again. I’d like to start out with a clean slate, if it’s all right with you. I’m not always a savage.”
“You were never savage with me,” she said huskily. She was glad he wasn’t looking at her. It gave her a moment to absorb the pain his words were knifing into her. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She had suspected that the experience in the cave had meant more to her than to Daniel.