“What happened while you were shopping?” Simon asked as he stood next to the steaming tub of water. A cold bath would have been better. Standing naked in a room with Robert and Christy had pushed his endurance to its limits. It was probably a good thing his back was screaming or he’d surely be wearing a tent for trousers.

“Nothing really,” Christy said dismissively. “I was approached by a strange man, a couple of strange men actually, and a blonde woman. It was all very odd. The agent seemed quite agitated about the whole thing.” She shrugged. “But nothing happened. The woman was yelling at me to run, the little man lunged at me, and the other man, the tall one, dragged him away. Then they all disappeared. It couldn’t have lasted more than a minute or two. I was frightened at the time, but now I think it was all a tempest in a teapot.”

Simon’s blood ran cold at her tale. “Christy you must promise me not to go out again unless it’s absolutely necessary, and then only with more than one agent. Promise me.”

“What a lot of fuss,” she said, with a little huff of annoyance. “But if it will get you in the tub, then I promise.”

“I can wash myself.” He looked again at that steaming tub of water and wondered how the hell he was going to climb into the damn thing and wash without howling.

“We made it too hot,” Christy said, her voice wavering. “I didn’t think. I mean, I didn’t realize—”

“I’ll just let it cool off.” Simon eased down to sit on the chair beside the tub. “It will be fine.”

“Let me wash your back while you sit there,” Christy said. Her voice was getting stronger, like it had been downstairs. She was different than she’d been last year. More sure of herself. But then, this was her house, as she’d said. She had a place at last, as Robert’s wife.

She could have been yours, that harsh little voice in his head whispered. This could be your house. When that voice had belittled his cowardice in rejecting Christy, when it had taunted him with what might have been as he’d lain in that stinking cell in Africa, rotting on the floor, he’d slapped his own face to shut it up. He couldn’t do that now. He also knew he couldn’t wash his own back, damn it.

“Please,” he said with a sigh, turning slightly.

He listened to her dip her cloth into the tub water and ring it out. Every nerve in his back that wasn’t screaming in pain was standing at attention anticipating her touch.

“You’ll have to lower your cover,” she told quietly. “I want to clean this wound thoroughly. I know it’s healed, but we should still keep it as clean as possible so as not to invite a relapse.”

Simon knew she was right, but he also knew the whole situation was wrong. What they were all inviting here was trouble. What was Robert thinking, leaving Simon and Christy alone together like this? And what was Simon thinking letting him? He wasn’t thinking, that was what. He was feeling, and what he was feeling were things he definitely oughtn’t to be feeling about Christy or Robert or anyone else in this house.

His thoughts were crashing around in his head, careening off one another as his shoulders grew tense waiting for Christy’s first touch. When it came, it broke him. Not with pleasure, but with pain. He cried out and shied away from her hand.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, sounding near tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Is it the cloth? Shall I just use my hands?”

Simon wanted to cry, not at the pain, but at the injustice of it all. “Yes,” he said, his voice strangled with bitterness and longing and a whole stew of emotions he’d rather not name or feel. “The cloth is too rough right now.”

When her hands, slick with lather, gently touched his back, he did cry. Silently so as not to alarm her. He cried because it still hurt and he didn’t care.

Christy ran her hands up and down his back, gently cleansing it and massaging it, and it felt divine, as if the hand of a goddess had reached down and anointed his ravaged back with some secret elixir. She scooped up water from the tub and rinsed his back, and then she lathered it again. This time she washed his arms as well, and he sat there docile as the child he’d proclaimed himself not to be and let her. When she was done, she moved around in front of him, and only then did he realize he’d closed his eyes. He opened them and looked up at her.

She was watching him closely. Her gaze traced his face and came back to his eyes, and they stared at each other. She cupped his cheeks and ran her thumbs under his eyes, wiping his tears away, and it thrilled him, these simple things.

“Oh, Simon,” she said sadly. She ran her thumb over his lips. “I’d kiss you, you fool, but to be honest, you still smell disgusting.”

Simon burst out laughing at her unexpected comment. “There’s my practical Christy,” he said. “God, I’ve missed you.”

She let go of him then. “Have you?” she said with a sad smile. “I’ve missed you, too. I wish I didn’t.”

Their situation came back to him like a blow to the chest then. “Yes. I wish that, too.”

But he didn’t. Not really. She was the only thing that had gotten him through Africa. The only thought that had kept him sane. He’d promised himself that when he came back he’d apologize to her. He’d tell her that he loved her, but walk away because it was the right thing to do. But he didn’t want her to think that he hadn’t loved her enough to offer for her. He’d loved her too much.

Now the words stuck in his throat. He could see that telling her would only make matters worse for both of them. For Robert. He cared for Robert now, too. Why was he always hurting the people he cared for the most? The few people that seemed to give a damn about him, too. That seemed to be his lot in life.

“I’m sure you do,” she said. She stepped back. “Can you take care of the rest? I think the water is cool enough now.”

He looked away from her and tested the water, although he didn’t care about the physical pain anymore. He welcomed it. It drowned out the much worse pain inside of him. “Yes, it’s fine. Thank you.” He looked at her then. “Thank you for everything.”

“I haven’t done everything,” she said, brushing away his thanks. “But you’re very welcome.” She went to the door, not looking back at him as she opened it. “I’ll lay out some clean clothes for you.” She closed the door, still not looking at him.

He dropped the linen sheet and stepped into the cool tub, wishing it was hot enough to burn his sins away.

When he returned to his room wrapped in a fresh linen sheet, he caught Christy unaware. She was leaning against the bedpost, her face buried in one of his shirts. At first he thought she was crying, but then he realized she was smelling it. Inhaling it might be a better description.

He understood completely. It was what he wanted to do to her. Every time he was near her, he could smell the faint but distinctive perfume of her, and it was branded in his mind as clearly as the mark on his back was in his skin. Did she feel the same way about him? Although Lord knew he didn’t smell as good as she in the godawful heat of this unusual summer.

“Christy?” he asked quietly. He half shut the bedroom door. He didn’t want anyone else to see what she was doing.

She straightened and dropped the hand holding his shirt to her side. She was blushing furiously. “Simon,” she said. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m sorry.” He rather thought he’d be saying that to her for the rest of their lives.

She bustled about, putting his shirt on top of a pile of clothes on the bed. “I’ve gathered what I could. You came with a minimal wardrobe. I assume you thought you’d only be here a short time. The case must be turning out to be more difficult than you all imagined. I sent around to Daniel’s for some things. The agent in charge at the door said it wasn’t a good idea to go to your apartment for anything since they might be watching it and we didn’t want to put anyone else in danger. Although apparently we are watching it, too? It’s all very confusing. But I thought Daniel would probably have something of yours since you were always there so often when I was staying with him.” She stopped abruptly and her gaze cut over to him.

He licked his lips. Her chatter was most likely meant to distract him, but it was having the opposite effect. He was sharply conscious of the fact they were in his bedroom alone and he wore nothing but a sheet wrapped around his hips.

And now she brought up Daniel’s and the two of them together there. It was where they’d fallen in love. Where they’d made love.

He couldn’t have stopped his feet from moving toward her if he’d nailed them to the floor, and Lord knew he was no martyr.

“Don’t,” she whispered, but she didn’t move away.

When he stood in front of her, he stopped. He leaned down and lay his nose against her hair and inhaled deeply. He felt her shiver. “Simon,” she whispered.

“It’s not as I remembered,” he said, his lips touching her silky hair. “At night I’d lay on the floor and I’d imagine the way you smelled. Like violets and cinnamon, and freshly laundered clothes. You still smell like that a little. But now it’s…” He sniffed again. “Roses. Is it roses? I like that, too.”

“Violets are for girls,” she said, her voice so low he could barely hear her. “I’m not a girl anymore. I wasn’t then, either, but I didn’t know the proper way to be a lady. I do now.”

“I hope not,” Simon said. “I never met a proper lady I liked.”

Christy laughed, as he hoped she would, and she turned her face up to him only to discover how very close they were, how simple a thing it would be to close the distance between them in a kiss. “I don’t suppose you have,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Can’t abide the breed,” Simon told her. He stole his arm around her. She felt so good, so right there. I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t.

He pictured Robert, trying to guilt himself into letting her go, but all he could see was a sleepy, aroused Robert kissing him passionately. That didn’t help. He pulled Christy against his chest and she put her palms on the bare skin of his shoulders, and it was like a match to kindling.

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly they had their arms wrapped tightly around each other and they were kissing hungrily, a year’s worth of passion and longing and misery pouring out of their mouths without words.

When he needed air more than he needed to kiss her, he broke away with a gasp. She was breathing as heavily as he was, but neither wanted to forgo the taste of the other. Simon rained kisses across Christy’s cheek to her ear and bit her lobe, eliciting a moan from her while she kissed his chest and his chin, any part of him she could reach.

“How I missed you, my darling,” he whispered. “How I dreamed of you at night. How I cursed myself for a fool for abandoning you. I loved you, Christy. You must believe me. I loved you too much to ruin your life by marrying you.”

“Simon, Simon,” she moaned. “I dreamed of you, too, my love. I cried each day you were gone, sure you were dead and my happiness with you. Never leave me again. You must promise me.” She dragged his head down to hers and kissed him again. Her mouth was like a drug, and Simon allowed himself to get lost in the haze of pleasure for a moment, but eventually he forced himself to pull away.

“I have to leave you, Christy,” he said, his voice breaking despite his attempt at fortitude. “You belong to Robert now. I made my choice and so did you. He is a good man and I will not betray him.”

Christy ripped herself out of Simon’s arms at his words, and one look at her face told Simon all he needed to know. She looked horrified, ashamed, grief-stricken. “What have I done?” she whispered.

She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and that gesture more than anything broke Simon’s heart in two. “I love Robert,” she whispered. “He is a good man. He is the best man. I will not betray him. I swore I would not. Not even with you, not for you. Never. This can never happen again.”

She turned away and hurried to the door, stumbling only once. When she got there, she stopped, her back to Simon. She smoothed her hands over her hair and down the front of her dress, composing herself. Simon let her have her moment, standing silent as he watched her. He had nothing left to say.

“Supper will be at six,” she said. Then she walked out the door and closed it behind her.

Robert barely had time to duck into Hastings’s empty bedroom before Christy walked out of Simon’s room. He leaned against the wall next to the door and prayed Christy wouldn’t decide to come into the room where he was hiding. He was trembling. He wasn’t sure if it was rage, or grief, or perhaps shock.

He’d known that Christy and Simon had a past relationship but had never really understood the nature of it. He’d assumed Christy had been the one with feelings for Simon that were not reciprocated in kind, which was why he had rejected her. And why he and Simon had had their own passionate encounter the other day.

But Simon and Christy were in love with each other. Robert had not expected this. He had not expected it to hurt quite so much, either. And it wasn’t just Christy’s betrayal, but Simon’s as well that hurt, which was laughable.

Christy wouldn’t betray Robert, Simon wouldn’t betray Robert, but hadn’t Robert betrayed them both? Were they both using Robert to somehow be close to one another? The thought was sickening.

He put a hand to his churning stomach. He didn’t want to be anyone’s consolation. Christy said she loved him, but she had never passionately declared herself to him the way she just had to Simon. Her love for Robert was a pale imitation of what she felt for Simon. And whatever Simon felt for Robert, it was nothing compared to what he felt for Christy. He had dreamed of her every night in Africa. Robert knew what that meant. He knew Christy must have been the one thing that helped Simon survive the hell of his captivity there.

Robert stepped away from the wall, straightening his spine. He knew what he had to do. He clenched his hands into fists and then relaxed them. One deep breath before he opened the door and left the room.

He’d meant to talk to Christy about the attack this morning. Barnabas’s man had just filled him in. He was sick at what might have happened to her. And now this. He would talk to her about it tonight, and he would handle the Simon problem, too.