Page 109 of A Foolish Flirtation

“No!” she assured him swiftly. “I want you to come back!”

Thank God. He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. “I won’t be long,” he said and made for his own rooms. When he returned half an hour later clad in his dressing robe, Emmeline was not dressed for bed, but was sitting at her dressing table wearing a frilly wrapper he had not seen before.

It was very becoming, and he looked his fill as he walked over to the bed and lay down there to watch her apply her face lotion. Instead, she piled her hair on top of her head and skewered it there with a few pins, then rose from her stool and walked over to the bed, halting before him.

He looked up at her, eyebrows raised, but made no move. “I’ve had an idea of something I would like to try,” she said abruptly. “Will you indulge me in this?”

“Of course,” he answered at once, setting aside his book. “What is it?”

She held her hand out to him. Jeremy rose from the bed and stood before her.

She took his hand. “You are not allowed to say anything,” she explained quickly, “but must just follow me.” Somewhat bewildered, Jeremy did as he was told and was promptly led to her private bathroom.

Emmeline cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “I have not yet taken my bath,” she said airily and pointed to a chair which Jeremy recognized as belonging to her sitting room. “You sit there,” she said imperiously.

For a moment, he did not move, so stunned was he. Then, obediently, he lowered himself into the chair. For one thrilling moment, Jeremy had imagined she was about to bathe in front of him, but to his crushing disappointment, the large tub was empty.

What was she doing? He watched, mystified, as Emmeline walked over to the cupboard and lifted out a large round object, setting it down in the middle of the floor. It took a moment for Jeremy to register what it was. A sponge bath. His heart gave a great leap, and he cast an incredulous look at his wife. She met his gaze squarely.

“Now you must sit there, and not stir, mind,” she told him warningly. “If you do, then I shall be forced to take steps.” When he sat forward in his seat, looking more intrigued than concerned, she added, “I will punish you in the fashion that goddesses always punish foolish mortals who overstep the mark. I shall transform you into a deer, or a star constellation, or a plant, something of that nature,” she concluded sternly.

“I will not dare to move a muscle,” he promised croakily.

Emmie nodded. “Then you may remain,” she said loftily, as though conferring a great favor. Jeremy could not catch his breath. He could not believe she was doing this. For him. His eyes tracked her as she walked across the room to fetch two large ewers of water and set them down, one after the other onto the floor next to the bathing tray. Next, she collected her rose-scented soap and her washcloth before returning to the center of the room.

Then she started to unfasten her wrapper in a businesslike fashion. Jeremy cleared his throat, wanting to tell her to slow down, and she paused in the act of untying a ribbon. She glanced toward him reproachfully, and he held his tongue, sitting back in his chair. Still, her fingers slowed in their progress, though whether to punish him or because she had read his mind, he was not sure.

Once her fastenings were dealt with, Emmeline took a deep breath and flung the wrapper open before shrugging it from her shoulders and casting it aside. Underneath it, she wore only a filmy petticoat which offered a scanty sort of modesty at best, and not for long either, as she soon whipped that up and over her head.

Then she was gloriously naked. Jeremy sat back in his seat, rapt and drinking in the view. He had never seen her nudity in its entirety before, all at once. Usually, his view was hampered by bedsheets or his own body. Not this time. This time he could see her magnificence unimpeded. It was a heady experience, and he felt somewhat intoxicated.

To his relief, Emmeline’s demeanor remained unhurried as she positioned herself over the deep, round tray and poured the first of the jugs of water all over herself, angling it to pour down her back, then her front, down her arms and legs, until her whole body was glistening wet. Then she turned around, affording him a lovely view of her backside, and crouched down to retrieve her bar of soap.

Jeremy caught his breath. Had she done that on purpose? Surely not. He scanned Emmeline’s face as she nonchalantly turned again, displaying her front, and started rubbing the soap over her lovely full breasts. He made an involuntary noise in his throat which he abruptly stifled when she paused. He held his breath.

Only when she was assured of no further interruption did Emmeline commence soaping herself again, under her arms and down her sides. To his fascination, her expression was entirely serene now, as though she had settled into her role of confident bathing goddess and felt secure in her divine status.

She proved this when she turned again, twisting to look over her shoulder as she soaped the backs of her plump thighs and her round buttocks. No statue of a bathing Aphrodite had ever made his breath catch in his throat as she did, however much they had caught attention.

Her abundant hair, only loosely confined on the top of her head, was escaping to cluster about her head and neck in damp ringlets, which he longed to touch and thread his fingers through. Bending down again, she retrieved her washcloth and started dragging it over her rounded limbs in circular sweeps, until no inch of her had escaped its attention.

He watched the whole process, enthralled, until she discarded her cloth at last and crouched down to pour the second jug of water over her body and wash away the soap. Jeremy sat forward in his seat to watch the last of the water run down her ankles.

In truth, he was torn. Part of him was content to sit here and watch his wife wield a drying cloth about her person. If he was lucky she might even reveal some kind of lotion. She had to have some trick for keeping it so perfectly supple and dewy. On the other hand, he was almost trembling with the need to touch her.

Emmeline looked directly at him for the first time since she started her wash. There was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, as though now she had finished, she was unsure of her next move. Jeremy took the initiative. “May I dry you, Emmeline?” he asked huskily.

She appeared to consider before glancing around the room. “I think the linen towels are in that cupboard over there,” she said, pointing. Jeremy needed no further encouragement. He sprang up from his chair, and fetched a couple of towels, setting one down on the floor for her to step onto.

She accepted his proffered hand, and he helped her to step out of the sponge bath and then started carefully, almost reverently patting her neck and shoulders with the other.

“Your towel is rather small,” Emmeline murmured. “Lottie usually fetches me a much larger one.”

“Yes, but you see I want to keep you naked as long as possible,” he responded with perfect truth. She gave a soft laugh which warmed his heart. “Have you any lotion in here?”

“No.”

“No lotion?” He was surprised. How did she keep her skin so soft?