Husband Size

It was a divine night. The bath water was the perfect degree of scalding, the candles scattered around the tub and floating on the water gave a warm low light, and Pansy stood in a silk robe, her bare feet sinking into the lushness of the bathmat as she plucked the petals from a bouquet and scattered them across the steaming water, the soft aroma of roses filling the air.

She turned, unfastening the tie at her waist, letting the silk slip off her shoulders and along her bare skin as it made its way to the floor and she poured herself a glass of freshly decanted elf wine, cradling it in one palm as she lifted a leg and watched her foot slide into the warm, inviting depths of her bathtub.

She gave a hiss of pleasure as she sank down and the heat wrapped around her.

This was the life.

Anyone who did not know the profound pleasure of a long, candle lit bath before tucking one's self in between crisp, freshly pressed sheets for the night, had never lived.

She took a long sip of her wine as she reclined, immersed up to the neck in the water. A simple stasis charm and it would stay this temperature as long as she wanted, and Pansy intended to stay there a good long time. She had an entire bottle of wine, and the novel she was reading had finally begun to heat up.

She took one more sip of wine and with a practiced flick of her wand, her book floated up from its place and opened itself, suspended at eye level as she luxuriated. She skimmed the words, refreshing where she'd left off the night before.

Triselda, a princess whose kingdom had been recently overthrown by her evil uncle who wished to marry her, and Celerion, her bodyguard, trained by a sacred and celebate order of warrior monks sworn to protect her, had just fled the castle and arrived, undercover, at a crowded inn. The only available room had only one bed.

Celerion was insisting that they needed two beds but the innkeeper said there were no other rooms and no more inns for fifty miles.

Pansy's toes curled gleefully in the water as she sank down to her chin and her eyes raced across the pages.

Triselda's heartbeat quickened as she ascended the stairs, all too aware of Celerion behind her. His footsteps on the stairs were silent, despite his height and muscled body, hardened by years of sacred training and mortal combat. She could feel his glowering disapproval at their situation, that they would be forced to share quarters. Then again Celerion always disapproved of everything.

As they reached the door to the room, Tris and Celerion both reached for the doorknob, their hands brushing for the briefest moment before they snatched them back. Her pale skin felt almost branded by that momentary contact of Celerion's calloused fingers against hers. Tris' heart was hammering in her chest like a stampede of water stallions and heat rose across her bosom as she felt Celerion's eyes upon her. Reminding herself that she had the blood of a thousand kings in her veins, she forced herself to look up.

Celerion's dark gaze was like the fire of a dragon...

"Pansy! Are you home?"

Theo's unwanted voice invaded Pansy's delightful evening like a bucket of ice water.

She started with a small scream, her concentration breaking. The epic romance of Triselda and Celerion dropped beneath the surface of the water like a stone.

Pansy dropped her wine as she dove and the water bloomed red around her before she managed to snatch the book up by the spine and pull it out of the tub, cursing and shaking it, trying to get the wine tinted water off. If the ink started running she was going to murder Theo.