This scene takes place after Duke and Anna's attempt at fishing in Scotland. It may have gone better had they both not ended up in the water.
"Let's take a bath together," Duke directed his wife.
"Hot water. With no fishes. Right?"
"We'll see."
"Oh, come on...," Anna protested.
"You come on." He took her hand and led her into the sumptuous bathroom.
The room was still adorned with massed candlesticks, the remnants of the storm the night they had arrived, and he put a matchstick to a grouping of them, bathing the surroundings in a warm, dim glow-darkness fell early and quickly in Scotland in autumn. "Run the tap, there," he instructed Anna, illuminating one after another of the makeshift candelabras. "Ow," he complained as the match burned down and singed his fingertips, and he shook it out and dropped it, then blew on his fingers and stuck them quickly into his mouth to soothe the burn. He lit another match and listened to the pounding flow of the water as he patiently completed his chore, and the room slowly began to fill with steam. Once all the wicks were alight, he moved to stoke the fire in the hearth, throwing on a few more logs to ward off the chill.
By the time he turned away from the fireplace, Anna had shed her soaked clothing and pulled her hair free from its braid, and Duke watched her bending naked over the bathtub, swirling her hand through the water like a naiad in a Waterhouse painting before turning off the faucet. She rose and stepped over the side of the oversized cast-iron claw-foot tub, easing herself down into the scalding water and billions of billowing scented bubbles. Duke smiled at the sight, and stripped down, letting his wet clothing fall onto hers in a puddle on the fieldstone floor. "Shove over," he said to her, and she moved into the center of the tub, smirking, so he could join her.
He sighed heavily as he sank down into the water and leaned back against the end wall of the tub, resting his arms along the edges. Anna reclined against him, her back to his chest. She slid down beneath the surface of the water, submerging herself to rinse the cold loch water from her hair, and came back up dripping. She laid her head against Duke's shoulder and they both stared silently out the picture window at the moon and her mirror image in the flat, black surface of the lake.
"I was wrong: Not a mermaid," Duke offered, recalling their predawn pillow talk of an earlier morning. "A selkie, maybe."
Anna shifted to one side and twisted her head to look up at him quizzically. "A selkie?"
He stroked her glossy dark hair back from her forehead, and she turned to face him. "It's old Scots folklore. A mythical, magical seal that sheds its skin to become a beautiful woman. Unless her husband hides her sealskin, she might return to the sea, and he'll wake to find her gone."
"There's not much chance of that. I much prefer this nice warm bath to the North Sea." She kissed him. "Are there male selkies?" she asked curiously, scrubbing some of the bubbles through his hair.
"Mm-hm," he grinned with satisfaction as her fingers vigorously massaged his scalp. "As human men, they're very handsome, and they have great powers of seduction over mortal women. A male selkie usually seeks out a bonny lass who's lonely and longing for romance."
"Ssssselkie!" she accused him, raising her parted lips to his mouth, her tongue between her teeth as she hissed the word. She slipped her tongue into his mouth to meet his, and he pulled her tight against him and then pushed her across the tub to the far end, pinning her beneath him and sloshing water over the sides and onto the floor. She rolled him back under her and sat in his lap, the two of them tumbling and laughing like playful seal pups.
Duke dunked his head beneath the water to rinse away the bubbles, then ran his hand back through his hair. "Or maybe an ondine-it's like...the Celtic version of a siren. I've no doubt you could lure a man to his death."
Anna shivered as a frisson traveled down her spine, and Duke squeezed her close into the warmth of his arms. "What an awful thing to say," she scolded quietly. "Don't say such things. I mean to take good care of you, for a long, long time."
Duke kissed her forehead, chastened. "Shhh. I'm counting on it, luv."
"I'm happy just to be your wife. A flesh-and-blood woman."
"Mmmm." He slid his hands down her sides, along her rib cage, and blew a cloud of bubbles off her breast-the puff of his breath and the popping suds tickled her. "Such delectable flesh." He sucked her nipple into his mouth, rolled it around under his tongue, tugged gently with his teeth. "Warm, pulsing blood." He nipped at the soft, round side of her breast, where a faint blue vein glowed through her pale skin, then soothed the pink bite marks with his tongue.
"I'm getting hungry," he suddenly announced matter-of-factly, sitting back against the end of the tub again.
"Oh," Anna said, a bit baffled. "Well, Mr. Graham's laid that lovely table..."
"Who said anything about food?" he grinned.
Anna beamed back at him. She stood up, lifted her hands to the nape of her neck, and twisted her hair into a long coil, wringing the water from it, as Duke smiled up at her appreciatively. She stretched to snatch a thick towel from a warming rack next to the fire, wrapped it around herself, and stepped from the tub. Duke followed, wrapping another towel around his waist. Then they wrapped themselves in each other's arms and shared a long, slow, deep kiss.
They moved into the bedroom and next to the bed, and Duke grasped the end of Anna's towel where she'd tucked it into itself. She slowly pirouetted away from him, unwinding the towel, and he let it drop to the floor as it fell fully away from her body. "Lovely," he smiled at her. He approached her again and kissed her, guiding her down onto the bed.
He proceeded to demonstrate that his claims of hunger had not been just lip service-they involved teeth service and tongue service too. His mouth and hands moved voraciously over her skin until she was aching for more. Anna's hands moved to his waist to remove the towel that was now pitched as steeply as a terrycloth tent, and before she could relieve him of it, he broke off and rolled onto his back.
"Up here." He puckered his lips at her in a kiss, tapping the tip of his index finger against them, and Anna felt as if all of her insides had liquefied.
"And tell you that I love you?" she joked, thinking of the Monty Python song as she did as he wanted, her knees sinking into the pillow on either side of his head, and she grasped the top of the bed's headboard for much-needed support.
As his tongue had its wicked way with her, her thighs trembled, and she moaned and leaned her forehead against the hard cherry bedstead. She found herself staring into the face of the naked cherub painted there, and the little cupid looked back with what seemed a knowing, less-than-angelic smile. "Oh god," Anna moaned quietly, closing her eyes. She clung harder to the bed, her breasts pressed up against the smooth wood as she writhed atop Duke's mouth, feeling that her entire being was concentrated down to the point beneath his tongue. "Oh, I do love you..." Duke cupped her buttocks in his hands and slipped his thumbs inside her, holding her still as he devoured her. "Duuuuuuuke," Anna moaned, feeling herself expand again as she came, her climax radiating out from the spot under the tip of his tongue until it encompassed her whole body.
He sucked gently at her for a few moments and then slid out from between her legs. Finally taking off the towel, he wiped his mouth with it and dropped it, then knelt behind his wife, who was hanging breathless from the headboard. Kissing her shoulder, he mounted her, pushing himself into her with a deep grunt of satisfaction. He wrapped one arm around the front of her to toy with her breasts, and his other hand trifled with her clit.
Anna closed her legs, tightening herself on Duke's cock and fingers, and moved her hips in time with his. "Ohhhhh, woman...," Duke moaned, kissing the side of her neck. "My wife..." He would never tire of calling her that, he thought, not even if they could somehow be married a thousand years. "I love you, too." The bed creaked beneath the rocking of their bodies, and Anna whimpered with pleasure as Duke increased the force and velocity of that motion, the thick head of his cock angling into her to repeatedly hit just the right, ultra sensitive spot.
Duke pushed Anna fully up against the headboard, banging her hips off it, and thrust hard into her as he began to come. "An-na... Uh...Uh...Uh..." Hearing him moan her name and feeling him jolting inside her as his fingers pressed against her, Anna again reached a pinnacle of pleasure, and she cried out and pushed back against him to take as much of him as he could give.
When their climaxes had subsided, Duke pulled Anna down onto the mattress with him, burrowing sideways into the pillows with her and sighing.
"I like this bed," he mused, lying there lethargically.
"You do?"
Duke grunted his confirmation.
"I didn't think you cared for antiques. Everything we've ordered for the house is contemporary. Your penthouse-it was all modern."
"Nevertheless: I like this bed."
"O-kay," Anna said slowly. "Well, hopefully you'll also like our own bed. Our new one. In our house."
"Mmm. I'm sure we will. In our house. I love the sound of that, you know."
"Me too. We're going to be so very happy-you, Robin, and I. And Filomena, of course."
"Mm-hm. We will be. As happy as you and I are right now. So happy. And hungry."
"Again?" Anna laughed.
"For food, this time. For now." He lifted his head from the pillow and looked toward the table set with china and serving platters under domed covers. "D'you think it's cold yet?"
"Probably. I don't care, though. I'm starving."
"You are?"
"Well, yes. You kept me out at that bleedin' lake all day, on that wild fish chase. You know, I don't believe there even areany fish in that lake."
Duke was indignant. "Of course there are. I caught one! Until you threw it back."
"I bet it was the last one. They've all been eaten by some prehistoric beastie."
"I told you, this is not Loch Ness."
"Or one of your whatyoucallits. Almondines."
"Ondines," Duke laughed. "You think the loch is full of trout almondine? I don't know whether you're more hopeless at catching fish or cooking them, woman."
"Can we just eat, please?" Anna huffed indignantly.
"Yes," Duke laughed. "Yes, let's eat." They rose from the bed, and each pulled on a dressing gown. They made their way to the small dining table by the fireplace, and Duke lifted the lid from one of the serving plates. "Voila." Looking at the meal, he laughed. "Here's your trout ondine, luv."
"Is it really? See? I knew we needn't have stood around staring at the water all day. The fish have come to us," she said smugly. "I won't do it again," she threatened.
"We'll see. Eat your dinner," Duke said, pulling out a chair for her.