I complied happily, resting my forearms against the ledge on which I had been sitting. He swept my hair out of the way and began rubbing soap all over the back of my body.

“Mmm,” I breathed. Soon he set the sponge back on the edge, and used his strong, warm hands to rub the soap around my back, stopping at my shoulders and neck to work the knots out of my overstressed muscles. I felt myself turning to liquid.

After ministering to my backside (and I do mean all of it) he lifted me onto one of the higher ledges so that most of my torso was out of the water and he had access to my legs. Then he soaped up the sponge and began washing the front of me. I realized that, although his touch was intimate, it was not sexual. Instead, it was gentle and soothing. I watched him through my half-lidded eyes, struggling to stay awake.

“Just lean back and relax.” His voice was warm. “You have been through much today. I did not Change to be intimate with you in a sexual way—that is not what you need tonight.”

I felt a definite sense of relief at his words. I loved him, but he was right, tonight I needed to be cared for, not seduced. I closed my eyes as he started at my toes, holding first one foot, then the other, out of the water. With one hand he used the suds-filled sponge, with the other he rubbed and kneaded my sore muscles. After he finished with my legs, he moved slowly up my torso, using the sponge to gently circle the soap around and over my arms and shoulders. It seemed that with every swipe of the sponge my muscles relaxed more and more and the horrors of the day were becoming almost bearable.

“I am moving you again,” he warned.

“Okay,” I sighed, keeping my eyes closed.

He grasped my waist and let my buoyancy in the water help him move me down to a lower ledge.

“Lean back and get your hair wet, I will hold your shoulders.”

I did as I was told, rinsing the rancid smells of puke and sickness from my hair. After soaking my head, he situated himself behind me on the ledge, and began working shampoo through my wild tresses. All I could do was lean back into him, enjoying his firm touch.

“Now, rinse.” He supported my shoulders again as I lay back into the warm water, swishing my hair from side to side until it felt clean.

“Float for a time, allow your body to absorb the healing of the bath’s heat. I will not let you go.”

I lay back in the warm water, keeping my eyes closed and my mind blank. I felt bruised inside and out. Under his breath, ClanFintan began a melodic chant. I couldn’t understand the words, but his deep voice was beautiful and hypnotic.

“What are you saying?” I whispered.

“I am saying relax, love. Your cares are mine and I will never let you go.”

Lulled by the water and his love, I barely stirred when he lifted me out of the pool. By some wonderful feat of manual dexterity and raw, brute strength, he was able to wrap me in a thick towel and set me on the chair at my vanity.

“You will not fall over, will you?” he asked.

I opened my eyes just a little to see him squatting in front of me, his hands resting on my knees. I shook my head.

“This will take very little time.” He squeezed my knees and stood.

“Where are you going?” I was starting to wake up.

“Shush.”

I watched silently as he began the chant that would shift him back to his original form. It seemed to take less time than it took for him to become a human, and the light began earlier and was more intense, causing me to close my eyes and bury my face in the towel.

I heard the familiar clomp of his hooves and knew it was safe to look (and to talk).

“Are you awake?”

“That light is a little hard to sleep through. Does it hurt as much to change back into a centaur?” I asked as he scooped me into his arms.

“Stop worrying.” He tucked my head into the crook between his shoulder and his neck, and fussed around until he made sure the towel covered all of me. “I am fine.”

I nuzzled against him and kissed his neck. “Bet you couldn’t run a marathon.”

“I could run one,” he chuckled as he carried me out into the hall and headed toward my chambers. “I just would not run very fast.”

My stomach growled and we both laughed.

5

My room was softly lit with about a zillion candles (yes, most of them were in the shape of skulls, but I was learning to ignore that), and my table had been heaped full of delicious food. As usual, I was starving.

ClanFintan reclined on one of the chaises, tucking me in front of him. He leaned over me and grabbed a huge golden leg of what must have been a mutated turkey.

“Eat,” he talked through the bite of leg. “I know you think you are starving.”

I tucked the towel around me and fell to. There was a great selection of meat, vegetables and pasta. And, once again, I felt a foodlover’s appreciation for the chef’s expertise. (Note to self: give the cook a raise—or whatever.)

The wine was, as usual, a deep, rich red. Rhiannon had her bad points, but she certainly knew her food and wine.

“You remind me of a centaur female the way you love food.” ClanFintan’s chuckle rolled against my back.

“Are you telling me I eat like a horse?” I teased.

“A centaur is not a horse.” He sounded stuck-up, but I still thought he was cute. “Although we do appreciate the equine’s limited uses.”

“We only have horses in my old world,” I said between bites.

“What?” He sounded shocked, as if I’d just said babies came from cabbage patches or something equally as ludicrous.

“Yep.” I talked as I chewed a wonderful piece of fish that tasted like halibut. “In my old world, centaurs are make-believe—the stuff of fairy tales and myths.”

“How can that be?” He sounded truly offended.

“I don’t know. It’s certainly their loss.”

“Hurmph,” he snorted in agreement while he chewed. Then a thought struck him and he said, “It must have been quite a shock for you to find yourself married to a being you thought existed only as myth.”

“Tell me about it.” I smiled and took another drink of wine.

He nodded in sudden understanding. “Little wonder you were so afraid at first.” He brushed the hair back from my face in a familiar caress. “There are no shape-shifters in your world, either.” It wasn’t a question.

“You took a little getting used to.” I leaned intimately against him.

“You were very brave. I wish I had known.”

“We did just fine. You made me feel it was safe to trust you.”

“I am glad.” The worry was leaving his face. “But if I had known, I would have…” He hesitated.

“What? Waited longer?” I gave him a mock frown. “I don’t think I would have let you.”

“Well, I certainly would not have wanted to.” He bent down and kissed my neck.

“There is something I want you to know—now that you do know who I really am.” I turned at the waist so I could look directly into his eyes. “Unlike Rhiannon, I am a faithful woman. I have never been—” I struggled to find the right words that would span worlds “—inclined to sleep with a lot of different men.” His look said he understood. “You don’t ever have to worry about trusting me.”

“I already believed that of you.” His voice was hypnotic; I felt like I could get lost in its warmth. “But I cannot help but be pleased to hear you say it. I will not share you.”