“I have clean clothes and the salve you requested in the workshop, sir,” the butler intoned. “Miss Greyson insisted I tend to your back. Threatened to do the task herself if I refused.” “Did she?” Darius grinned as he toweled his hair dry. The thought of Nicole’s fingers delicately applying salve to his scalded skin was a rather tantalizing prospect. Too bad it was also highly improper.”
