Once the strings were undone, he turned away. "I assume you can manage from here."
Adele removed the rest of her undergarments and stepped into the bath, sinking up to her shoulders in the bubbles with a soft groan. Various aches and bruises she hadn't recognized began to make themselves known.
He returned with a dripping piece of linen that was gloriously cool. "I sent Herbert to chip some ice."
The steam from the bath would make short work of the ice, but Adele took it and held it gently to her hot ear. The wound itself had healed, courtesy of his saliva, but the flesh sill throbbed.
Despite his words, he'd been tender with her tonight. It was confusing.
"Tell me something," she murmured. "You seem remarkably insistent upon avoiding affairs of the heart. Why?"
Malloryn sank into the chair near the bath, clasping both hands between his knees. "I wasn't aware we were on such intimate terms, to be speaking of our pasts."
Every time she thought he would let her in, he set a wall between them.
She flicked water at him. "I nearly died tonight."
"I was trying to keep you out of this mess," he pointed out. "As I recall, you insisted. Don't blame me, and don't try to use it to appeal to my gentler nature."
"I wouldn't. You have none. And considering what you did to me on your desk the other day, I'd have thought us quite intimate enough for such revelations."
His stare turned intense, and though it remained locked on her face, she couldn't help feeling particularly naked in that moment.
Then he closed his eyes and laughed under his breath. "You always have to challenge me."
"Driving you crazy is one of my favorite pastimes."
"I've noticed."
"And here I thought ignoring me was your favorite pastime," she said, with a careless shrug that belied the hurt inside.
He sensed it in some way. He always did. "How could I ignore you? Every time I went to read one of my bloody books, you'd moved the bookmark to another page. Your perfume was on my favorite chair. There were crumbs on my desk, and someone had tried to pick the lock on its drawer."
"You noticed."
A smile escaped her.
"Falling asleep in my library chair with your gown slipping from your shoulder. Stealing one of my favorite shirts and wearing it about your rooms en dishabille." Malloryn leaned closer. "Kissing strange men who worked for my enemy. Yes, I noticed."
"If I'd known that would have bothered you, I'd have kissed one many months ago," she admitted, then saw his face. "Only a kiss. And only to capture your attention."
"It didn't bother me."
Adele flicked more water at him. "And yet, you keep mentioning it. I think someone is lying, but the question is, is he lying to me? Or himself?"
His eyes narrowed. "You have some sort of obsession with torturing me, I swear. Why?"
Adele slicked soap down her arms in a sudden nervous flurry. "Possibly for the same reason you keep mentioning that kiss. As if your mouth has been chaste since we married."
Stillness radiated through him. For a second, she thought he wasn't going to reply. "Technically... it has."
Adele blinked. "You expect me to believe you haven't touched another woman since our wedding day?"
"I haven't, no."
"It was a well known fact the baroness was your lover," she murmured, dipping her gaze to her legs as she focused on slicking soap along them. "And from what I can gather, she worked for you here in the same capacity Gemma does now."
"Isabella was a friend, though yes, we were intimate. I called off our arrangement before the wedding," he murmured, hands braced together between his thighs. "It wasn't fair to her, and…."
It clearly made him uncomfortable to speak of such things, but she couldn't hide the rush of blood through her veins. He'd been chaste since their wedding. It didn't mean anything, and yet, she wanted to suddenly capture his hair in her fist and drag his mouth down to hers.
"And?"
"I was trying to keep her safe. Balfour has a habit of striking at those closest to me. He wants me to suffer. I'd hoped—" A shake of his head. "I was wrong. She paid for it with her life." His voice roughened. "They all pay for it with their lives."
Suddenly, some of the mysterious puzzle pieces of what drove Malloryn began to fit themselves together. He'd lost Catherine Tate, and now the baroness. It made sense he'd wall himself away where nobody could ever reach him.
It wasn't that Malloryn didn't care.
He cared too much.
And he thought he couldn't afford to.
Perhaps Barrons had been right.
Perhaps Malloryn held her at arm's length because he was trying to protect her.
The revelation left her breathless. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bought it up."
"It's fine. Now it's your turn," he murmured.
"My turn?"
"To share a secret." His eyes glittered as he reached for the washcloth and slowly lathered it. "Lean forward."
Adele complied, and the hot flannel slid across her back. "What sort of secret?"
"Tell me why you can't resist tormenting me."
Adele rested her chin on her knees sleepily. Most of the ice had melted, so she cast the cloth aside. "I always knew you hated me for trapping you—"
"I didn't hate you."
A laugh escaped her. "I thought we were to speak only the truth tonight?"
"I didn't hate you," he repeated.
Slowly, she turned her head.
Their eyes met.
"I disliked the way you manipulated me that night. There's nothing I despise more than being twisted into a situation beyond my control, but the truth is, there are ways I could have managed our engagement so it ended."
A rush of breath escaped her. "Then why did you...?"