Page 96
Story: A Bride for the Duke of Sin
“You did not think you were going to take a bath without me, did you?” He grinned at her wickedly.
Phoebe laughed and burrowed her nose into his pillow. “On second thought, I think I would much rather stay here. You go on ahead.”
She was very much like a small child, begging to stay abed for a little while longer. However, if she did not soak in the warm water, the soreness would be worse in the morning.
Or so he had been told.
So, Ethan gently gathered her pliant form in his arms, walked to the bathtub, and carefully lowered her into the water. He smiled when he noted the flower petals floating on the water’s surface.
The maids had even gone the extra mile for them both.
Phoebe sighed as he took the washcloth and gently resumed cleaning her up. He had moved up to her belly when she put a wet, soapy hand on his bicep.
“I thought you were going to join me.” She pouted at him.
He laughed and relented, the water sloshing as he lowered himself beside her.
“You are right,” she told him, leaning her head against his shoulder almost instinctively.
“I am right about most things, Duchess,” he gently chided her. “You should have learned that by now.”
“Not really. Just this once.”
“Oh? And what am I right about this time?” he asked her.
“Your bathtub is big enough for the both of us.”
“You will find out soon enough that I am right about a great many things as well,” he promised her.
She let out a soft sigh. “I suppose I can accept that.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You suppose?”
She nodded and toyed with the petals that floated close to her. “I suppose I can accept that you would be right about a great many things, just as long as you can accept that I am right about a great many more.”
He laughed and drew her into his arms.
Of course, she would never let him have the last word. The strange thing was that he found he was perfectly fine with all of that.
After the bath, they dried each other before Ethan carried her back to the bed once more, as she was barely able to keep her eyes open.
“Phoebe?”
“Hmm?”
They were lying on the bed, with her in his arms. His fingers toyed with the golden waves that spilled over his arm and onto the pillows.
“How do you feel?” he asked her solemnly.
She looked up at him with a sleepy smile. “Honestly?”
He nodded. “Honestly.”
She smiled and buried her nose into his shoulder. “If I had known it would be this wonderful, I would have given up on my dreams of being a spinster much earlier.”
Ethan could not help the soft laugh that bubbled in his chest. “I apologize for breaking your condition, though,” he told her softly.
“What condition?” she murmured sleepily.
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