Page 6 of The Tantalizing of a Scandalous Rake

The man murmured something again. Something about this feeling nice. It would certainly feel better if he did not hold her captive against him. She fought to press up, but his arm remained locked around her, and he released her wrist to fling the other arm about her, keeping her flat against him.

She could not recall the last time she had been in the embrace of a man—before her parents had moved to the south she supposed. Perhaps that was why she sank into the embrace. Or maybe it was simply because he left her with no choice.

Either option was better than the tiny, inkling feeling that she rather liked being in his arms. He had no idea of what he was doing. Probably scarcely understood why he was here. So she should not enjoy this moment.

No. Most certainly not.

She eased out a breath and regretted the next inhale, drawing in the musky scent of him. If only she had not bathed him with cloths and let him sit in his own sweat then she would not feel that low, low pang that reminded her it had been so long since she had enjoyed the embrace of a man.

“That’s enough,” she murmured, more to herself.

With as much strength as she could muster, she pushed up and reached around to peel away an arm. He relented and sank away from her, his arms dropping to his side.

She straightened her gown and ran a hand over her hair. “The sooner you recover, the better,” she told him. She did not want him under her roof any longer than necessary.

Chapter Three

An otherworldly groan made Adam awaken with a jerk. His heart set immediately to racing and he tore open his eyes. Only then did he realize the groan had come from him. Brow furrowed, he glanced left and right. Where the devil was he?

Little moments filtered into his memory. Someone touching him, holding him, damping down his brow.

The Beauty.

He tried to twist in search of her, but pain tore through his gut. He released another moan of pain.

Now he recalled. Some bastard stabbed him. He remembered the searing stab of the knife and falling to his knees but not much else afterwards. He remembered her, though, nursing him through the agony. But where was she? And where was he?

He turned his head to the side and squinted as daylight slipped between the thin curtains, masking a small square window. The room offered bright white walls, sloped ceilings supported by beams and simple furnishings—a wooden chair, a vanity table and a clothing chest. The bed on which he laid had to be less than half the size of his own at Eastwick.

Gingerly, Adam lifted the sheet to peer down. Bound around his gut were clean bandages. And he was naked. Exceedingly naked. Which meant—

“You shouldn’t move.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the door and instantly regretted the sudden movement.

“I warned you.” She shut the door gently behind her and came to the bed to put a hand to his forehead. Her fingers were cool and slightly rough but surprisingly soothing. “You look much better.” The strain around her eyes eased.

Maybe it was because he’d been stabbed. Or because she had been tending to him, but he’d never seen anyone so beautiful. He’d thought her mightily attractive upon their first meeting but there was something about the wild curls that indicated it had been some time since she’d combed her hair and the crumpled state of her clothing that lent her a touch of mortality. Here was a goddess but she was within his grasp.

“How long have I been here?” His words came out raspier than anticipated.

“Four days.”

His stomach grumbled in response. “No wonder I feel as though I haven’t eaten in forever.”

“You managed a few small sips of broth yesterday, though I imagine you do not recall.” Her lips curved. “The doctor recommended laudanum and willow bark for the pain.”

From the slant of her lips, he had to wonder precisely what he’d said and done but he could not bring himself to care much at present. “I take it I am to live.”

“Unfortunately yes.”

He narrowed his gaze at her amused smile. “You do not mean that.”

She sighed and poured a glass of water. “I do not. It would not be good for business to have you die upon my doorstep.”

“Not to mention you would miss me.”

“Miss you?”

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