Page 37 of Gambling with the Earl
A new thought invaded his mind. Could she want him, despite his disfigurement? Just like he wanted her? The answer to one of those questions was quite obvious. His want was real and solid, beginning to strain at the part of him that was still clothed.
Her want was harder to gauge. But he took some encouragement from the fact that she had come to his chamber with her dress unfastened, like an offering.
An offering he should deny, but he was but flesh and blood. A mere man filled with urges and desires he’d repressed for too long.
Hardly daring to breathe, Guy raised his right hand and placed it gently against the curve of her cheek. She leaned into it, surprising him again with her willingness.
She was beautiful.
He’d noticed before, of course, but now with her loose hair billowing around and her breathing grown deep and tremulous,her loveliness floored him. He wanted to touch more of her. His hand moved to the softness of her hair and he coiled it up behind her head before letting it spill out, like a breeze of autumn leaves.
“Kitty,” he breathed, just to say her name out loud.
She jolted, as if the sound of it had woken her from a slumber. She looked down at her unbuttoned bodice and back up again, uncertainty clouding her green eyes. The spell between them was broken.
“I’m sorry,” she stuttered.
“For what?” He shifted his position, gathering his composure.
“I shouldn’t have sat…” She paused and swallowed awkwardly. “I was bathing your wound.” Her eyes darted down to his chest and then sideways to the floor.
“For which, I thank you.”
She got to her feet, fastening the top of her dress with shaking fingers.
“I offer further thanks for coming to my aid so quickly,” he offered, wanting to ease her discomfort. Wanting her to stay. Wanting her.
She lowered her head meekly. “I shall leave you now, my lord.”
Damnation. He didn’t want her to go. He wouldn’t allow it.
“You told me once that you had nursed a man who was cut by an axe,” he said, his mind racing with the effort of remembering her tale.
She paused, indecision flickering across her face. “I did.”
“What say you to nursing me back to full health?” He smiled, pretending he cared little for her response.
A beat passed. She would refuse him. He had shocked her with his impropriety. What madness had caused him to caress her cheek?
“I should be pleased to do so.” Her answer, when it came, made his flesh tingle with relief.
“I must return to the service of the king,” he continued, wanting to remind himself of this fact in the face of his sudden, overwhelming desire for Kitty. “As soon as possible.”
Her face was impassive, but her voice showed concern. “You must rest, a while at least.” She pushed her hair back behind her ears as if suddenly keen to hide it.
“Yes.” He twisted impatiently. “But once strength and ease of movement return to my left hand, arrangements will be made.”
She hovered closer, her traitorous hair fanning out like a waterfall. “May I see?”
The damage to his hand was on the inside but he still held it out towards her.
Kitty frowned. “It is too dark in here.”
“I like it that way.”
“If I am to nurse you, I must be able to see my patient.” She folded her arms across the plain wool of her dress.
Her calm reasoning made him feel like a petulant child. “I prefer the shadows.”
