Behind the Mask (23 page)

Abbi shot him a startled glance, then wished she hadn’t. She’d forgotten all about what exactly he’d done to keep her from freezing to death. But now the memory was clear, and the smirk on his face left her warm with embarrassment. He chuckled again while she avoided his eyes. “You do blush very prettily,” he said. “I apologize for not having a lady’s maid available to help you bathe, but—”

“For your information, I have never bathed with assistance from anyone.”

Cameron made an exaggerated show of being impressed. “And do you wash that fiery mane of yours alone as well?”

Abbi couldn’t answer without lying. Elsa had always helped wash her hair.

“I thought not,” he said and knelt on the floor beside her. Abbi didn’t know whether to feel terrified or grateful as he added, “Come now, Abbi. Turn around and lean back. Let me help you.”

Abbi reluctantly turned to sit on the floor, leaning her head back over the edge of the tub. Cameron said nothing as he rolled up his sleeves and lifted water into her hair with his hands. He lathered it with the shampoo she’d left close by, and for several minutes she could feel his hands massaging and playing in the suds. He never met her eyes for even a moment, but Abbi kept her gaze on his face, contemplating his possible motives. He eased her head back into the water, rinsing her hair carefully, lifting water with his hands to rinse where the water didn’t reach.

“That should do it,” he said, urging her to sit up straight. He took great care in wringing as much water out of her hair as he could, then he wrapped a towel around her shoulders and sat down on the floor beside her.

“Thank you,” she said, hoping he would take the hint and leave her alone to bathe now.

“You know it will be Christmas soon, Abbi.”

“It’s amazing how you’ve hardly said a word for days, and now you’re trying to make witty conversation—while my bath water is turning cold.”

“It’s not easy keeping track of the days, you know, up here in solitude. But after three years I never seem to miss one. So I thought you’d like to know what day it is.”

“Fine! Tell me and go.”

“It’s December eighth,” he said lightly, leaning back on his hands with an obvious intention to stay right where he was.

“If you’re waiting to get a glimpse of me without my clothes, it won’t work.”

As soon as she said it she realized how ludicrous it sounded, in light of what he once again reminded her of. “I’ve already seen you without your clothes,” he smirked again, “so what is there to be concerned about?”

“You won’t again,” she insisted, unnerved by the memory far more than she wanted to admit.

He raised his brows, and Abbi couldn’t help thinking how handsome he was. Then his expression became so severe that she wondered where his thoughts were. She caught her breath as he lifted a hand to touch her face. “You’re a strange creature,” he said. “One minute you’re like that wild-spirited stallion of yours. And the next you get a look about you that’s almost . . . unearthly.” He turned his hand over to touch the same spot with the back of his fingers, as if it might feel differently. Abbi’s heart quickened and she forced her eyes elsewhere, unsettled by his potent stare.

“Are you real, Abbi? Or are you some fiery-haired sorceress, sent to bewitch me? Or perhaps you are an angel, sent to teach me a harsh lesson.”

“I am only human, Cameron; flesh and blood, just as you are.”

“So you are,” he said. “Barely a woman. Your innocence is as evident as your age. I’d wager you’re not more than seventeen.”

“Eighteen,” she corrected.

“Ah,” his sarcasm was evident, “practically a spinster.” His eyes turned serious again. “I’d wager you’ve never even been kissed.”

Abbi gasped before she had a chance to make any effort to hold it back. Cameron looked into her eyes. With his face so close and the present topic of conversation, she feared where this was headed.

“Well?” he demanded with an arrogance that startled her.

“Actually, I have.”

He looked surprised and amused. “Tell me about it,” he said. While Abbi was wondering what to say, he pressed a finger over her lips. “No,” he said, “better yet, show me.”

Abbi sucked in her breath just before she found her lips beneath his. She’d not had even a moment to anticipate his kiss before it was happening. And with the realization her heart raced and her every nerve tingled. While her conscience told her to resist, she unwillingly softened her lips against his, relieved by his apparent determination to make it last. She wondered what she might have felt if she could have foreseen this moment the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Everything wrong became right, every mystery was solved. The world stopped and the moment was perfect. When the emotional impact of his kiss began to completely overtake her, she focused instead on the physical sensation, intrigued by the feel of his beard around her mouth. Some measure of logic intruded, reminding her that her interpretation of his kiss was not necessarily the same as his reasons for doing it. The conversation that had led up to it came back to her, eradicating the magic. She felt like a fool for exhibiting such pleasure when she knew he was mostly taunting her. Abruptly she turned away, breaking the connection.

“My kiss offends you?” he asked with an arrogance that she was beginning to see came naturally for him.

“I have no reason to believe it was sincere,” she retorted without looking at him.

“And how do you know that?” he asked, sounding angry. She was amazed at how he could so conveniently forget his attitude with her.

“I’ve yet to be kissed with sincerity,” she said. “When it happens, I can assure you that I will know.” He said nothing and she added, “Now please, leave me in peace.”

Cameron stood and left the room briskly. Abbi let out a long, slow breath, then she hurried to get into the tub before the water cooled any more. She was grateful for Gwendolyn’s bath salts that clouded the water and made it impossible to see anything as she sank completely beneath the surface. If Cameron decided to return, she could at least maintain a degree of modesty. But she’d only sat there for a few minutes when she realized the water was too uncomfortably cool for her to enjoy any relaxation. She was about to hurry and wash herself and get out when she heard Cameron’s boots on the stairs again.

“Oh, help,” she muttered under her breath and sank as low in the tub as she possibly could. Only her head and the tips of her knees were visible. At least he knocked this time.

“What?” she called.

“Are you decent?” he asked.

“In a manner of speaking, but . . .”

Cameron opened the door before she could finish. With no expression or comment he poured a bucket of steaming water into the tub. Then he just stood there, staring at her face as if he wanted to say something. Abbi thought if he were truly so overcome with lust, he would behave very differently under the circumstances. She sensed a rare moment when he let down his guard and faced her with honesty. Looking into his eyes, she felt a renewed compassion for the loneliness he must have dealt with for so long, and she could understand why he might find it difficult to communicate with her.

“That should help a little,” he said, but he seemed hesitant to leave. She was about to insist that he go out when he asked, “Are you afraid of me, Abbi?”

Astonished by the question, she considered how to answer without being dishonest. She reasoned that she was more afraid of the way he made her feel, rather than fearing that he might hurt her. “No,” she pressed her lips together firmly, “I’m not!”

“Perhaps you should be.” He shifted his weight from one booted leg to the other.

Wondering if this was the moment she’d been fearing, Abbi took a deep breath and spoke courageously. “Why should I be afraid of you?”

“They say I’m a dangerous man.”

“Who are they?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“Then so is what they say.”

For a full minute their eyes clashed in some silent battle, then he smirked subtly before he turned and left the room.

“Thank you for the water,” she called, but he was gone. Once again she was left to wonder exactly what she should make of such a bizarre exchange.

Just as Abbi expected, Cameron was back to his normal cruel and lusty exterior when she came down to prepare dinner. It was as if his kiss and tender glances had never existed. She convinced herself that if he was going to pretend they didn’t exist, then she would too. His attitude made it easy to forget quickly. Within a few days he had tormented her so badly with his sharp tongue and craving eyes that she nearly hated him. All practicality considered, she decided it would be best to hate him after all. It would make her life much less complicated when blessed spring came. She knew he was certainly in no position to become a permanent part of her life. He had hidden himself carefully away from the world. And far worse, he had built up a seemingly impenetrable barrier around himself. In truth, she felt certain that he would never go back.

Once again Abbi sat across the table from Cameron, attempting to eat and not let his gaze affect her. But looking into his eyes, she had to admit to feelings she’d been fighting for days now. She
was
afraid. Not of having him do harm to her, not of his passion getting out of control. If she were going to have to fight him off, it would have come to that by now. No, Abbi was afraid of spending the rest of her life with this unfulfilled ache growing inside her. She wanted to know him, heart and soul. She wanted to hear his thoughts and dreams, and to share hers with him. She wanted to hold his hand and touch his face and just be in his arms. She wanted him to kiss her. And yes, she wanted to experience the full extent of his passion; she wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life—but only under the proper circumstances.

If they were in the real world, surrounded by society and decorum, she would demand that he make his intentions honorable or get out of her life. But that was impossible under the circumstances. It was only the two of them here, and there was nowhere for these feelings to go. She felt confused, and yes—afraid.

Cameron lifted one corner of his mouth into a skeptical smile at the same moment his eyebrow rose into a questioning arch. Abbi realized she’d been staring at him as she took a drink of water. She choked and spilled water down the front of her dress. While she was coughing, Cameron’s gaze moved over the wet stain, then back to her face. Abbi slammed her glass down on the table and hurried upstairs to change. She paced the room for several minutes, fighting to find some semblance of reason in all she was feeling. How could she have such contempt for this man and in the same breath want only to be in his arms?

Trying not to think about it all, Abbi pulled a dress from the trunk to change into. It was one she hadn’t worn yet, but she had it on before she realized that it fastened down the back, and she was accustomed to having Elsa handle such matters. Abbi tugged and reached and managed all but the top three buttons. She finally gave up and started digging through the trunk to find a dress with front buttons. She glanced once into the mirror and was startled to see Cameron standing in the doorway, wearing a long cloak.

“How long have you been there?” she demanded and turned abruptly, pushing her hair back over her shoulder in order to see him more clearly.

“Long enough,” he replied, and she wondered if this was the moment she’d been fearing.

“You shouldn’t sneak around like that. You scared me,” she added, feeling decidedly nervous as Cameron removed his cloak, threw it deliberately to a chair, and ambled across the room.

“I see you’re missing that lady’s maid again. Allow me,” he said and turned her around. She found it difficult to breathe as he gathered her hair into one hand with slow deliberation. He eased it all over the front of her shoulder and pressed a hand down the length of it with silent admiration. Abbi felt tense and embarrassed, but she said nothing. He fastened one button then stopped. Her breathing quickened. His cold fingers touched the back of her neck. He kissed her there, took hold of her shoulders, and kissed her again. A tingling began at her neck and pulsed through every nerve in her body. Fear and longing quarreled inside her, and frustration threatened to overtake them both. Cameron had been right when he’d said he would torture her. She felt it every time he touched her, or when his gaze scrutinized her carefully. She was human too, and her desires were overwhelming. Was this what he had wanted all along, to bide his time and gradually make her want him as much as he wanted her? Did he expect her to believe that sharing something so sacred would change the way he felt about her, or the way he treated her? A confused rage of anger and passion finally startled her from the magical trance of his touch, and she turned to him defiantly.

“Stop it!”

“What?” he retorted as if he had no idea what she meant.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she growled. “It’s working, you know. You’re tormenting me—just like you said you would. I can’t walk past you without your eyes undressing me. I can’t go to bed without fear of waking to find you upon me like a hungry wolf. I’m human! You’ve proven that. Now will you give me no peace?”