“Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
The audacity of this man! Her arms crossed over her breasts. “Get out!”
“You need not be shy around me, little mouse.”
He poked at her with that silly pet name and she hated it. But he was right. She was a mouse, unsure if she’d ever find the courage to face off with such a potent male. Her disappointment in herself was perhaps the hardest truth to swallow.
His gaze traced over the suds floating on the water as if he could will them away for a better view. Her heart raced and she slid lower in the tub, wishing the water was a touch warmer.
“Please go.”
With a sigh, he said, “I’ve decided we’ll leave tomorrow. I don’t want to rush. We have some issues to iron out.”
“Fine.”
His hand reached for the knob and he paused. “I could join you—”
“Go!”
He chuckled and left the bathroom.
She covered her face with her hands and groaned, sinking her head beneath the surface.
When the water chilled to an intolerable degree, she sloshed out of the bathtub and dried her body, her gaze searching for her robe and not seeing it. “No…” She bit her lip.
“Is there something you need, Larissa?”
She jumped at the deep timbre of his voice on the other side of the door. “Don’t come in!” Her hands jerked the damp towel over her exposed front. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She couldn’t go out there in only a towel. “Would you please be so kind as to bring me my robe?”
Heavy footfalls drifted down the hall and soon returned. She waited for him to knock, but he didn’t. Nor did the knob jiggle.
“Bishop?”
“Is it too much to ask that you say my name, Larissa?”
She shut her eyes, pressing her forehead to the cool wood. She would never survive eternity with this man. From the deep timbre of his voice to the stature in which he carried himself, he was too intimidating.
They were a million miles from being equals. Her mind couldn’t imagine him ever being anything less than her superior.
Her fingers traced over the painted wood, and she softly whispered, “Eleazar.”
She gasped and the door opened, causing her to step back quickly.
He looked at her under thick, sooty lashes. “Your robe.” Holding the material open, he gestured for her to step into the garment.
She hesitated and he waited, never rushing her or appearing irritated by her internal struggle. Silus often snapped at her for hesitating when he gave her an order. Though, the bishop hadn’t ordered her. He’d merely offered to help her dress.
She swallowed and stepped closer, turning to face the tub and presenting him with her back. The soft fabric covered her shoulders and her arms slid through the sleeves. His hand reached around her hip and tugged the towel free.
The graze of his knuckle along the soft flesh of her breast caused her to suck in a breath, which she held until he tied the robe shut. Pressing his palms to her shoulder, he kissed the side of her head and stepped back, leaving the billowing sleeves draped over her arms.
Dizzy and warm, she stepped away from his hold and faced him, lowering her gaze to the floor. “Th—thank you,” she stuttered.
His fingers tipped up her chin. “No walls, Larissa. Now come, let us talk.”
As his tall, broad form moved down the hall, she pressed a cool hand to her overheated cheek. What was this affect he had on her? On wobbly legs, she followed him, all too aware of her nudity under the robe.
Rather than meet him in the den where he sat waiting, she detoured to the kitchen and pulled a mug down from the cabinet. Unable to forget her manners, she asked, “Would you care for a cup of tea, Bish—Eleazar?”
“Yes, tea would suit nicely.”
She took her time heating the kettle and steeping the herbs, waiting for her nerves to settle. He no longer frightened her as much, but she still trembled in his presence.
“I’m also nervous around you.”
She slammed a door on her thoughts and whirled around, her back to the counter. She hadn’t heard him approach. “Please stay out of my head.” She was still raw from sharing so much the last time she let him in.
“My apologies. Your thoughts were loud.” He took the teacups and carried them into the den.
She followed with the sugar and cream, unsure how he took his.
He was taller than Silus. She preferred his scent to her husband’s, as well. His darker skin showed traces of European roots and his thick, glossy hair shined black in some lights.
With shaky hands, she stirred sugar in the steaming mug. Eleazar settled into the chair across from her, setting his tea on the table to cool. He studied her and she sensed some sort of expectation that made her fidget.
“When we return to the farm, I will have the paperwork drawn up to annul your marriage.”