Page 18 of The Trouble with Tigers
Her skin prickled with awareness as her heated blood rushed through her veins, leaving her shaky and breathless and anticipating something she couldn’t name.
His footsteps thumped to a halt directly in front of her.
She noted the golden stubble on his cheeks. Hadn’t bothered with a shave, eh? And judging by his unkempt locks, he hadn’t employed a comb since rolling out of bed, either. She wouldn’t have imagined a head of hair could get that mussed in sleep, unless—her heart seized as the truth struck. A woman had woven her fingers in all that gold silk.
Clenching her teeth against the urge to berate him, her narrowed gaze met his bloodshot, predator’s eyes.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Good morning, my lord.” Danni slipped away, feather duster tucked under her arm.
Traitor.
“I’m waiting.”
She lifted her chin. “I wondered if you had taken ill, my lord, since you missed both breakfast and lunch, and, now that I’ve gotten a good look at you…” She broke off to sniff. “I see I had reason to worry. You clearly didn’t sleep well.”
A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “Kit, I’m touched.”
Her cheeks flooded with heat. “My concern is solely for the earl’s sake. He expressed concern.”
Zeke inched closer until he loomed over Kit. “Indeed? Where is Claybourne now?”
Alarm spiked through her. Would he actually ask the earl about his supposed concern? She knew her claim to be true,of course. The earl was worried about Zeke, though he hadn’t expressed it in so many words.
“He’s having his afternoon nap, and I’ll thank you not to bother him.”
Zeke surprised her with a grin. “Excellent. That leaves you free to help me.”
“Help you?” She squeaked.
“This saves me from having to send for my valet.” With that, he sauntered into his sitting room, leaving Kitty frozen in place and staring after him.
He disappeared through the adjoining door into his bedchamber. A moment later, his tousled head reappeared. “Kit, I haven’t got all day. Move your arse.”
She bristled at his tone. Then it hit her. She was about to enter his lair to help strip him of his clothes.
She shouldn’t. She couldn’t. But how could she refuse?
Zeke’s eyes narrowed.
“Very well. Although why a grown man needs help undressing,” she muttered under her breath as adrenaline flooded her veins.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing important, my lord.”
Kitty entered his private chamber, giddy anticipation bubbling inside her, despite the alarm bells clanging in her head. She must be mad. Ladies didn’t venture into gentlemen’s chambers, much less help men out of their clothes.
All rational thought ceased at the sight of the large, polished-wood, four-post bed dominating the center of the room. The rich, burgundy velvet coverlet invited her fingers to sink into the fabric.
Without warning, a vivid image of Zeke languishing beneath the sheets sprang to her mind. Her toes curled in her stockinged feet, digging in to the plush carpet.
She pinched her eyes closed and inhaled deeply to clear her mind. Only the room smelled like him. That spicy, clean, masculine scent. A slow burning fire ignited in her belly.Not good.
“First my boots.” Zeke dropped into the armchair positioned before the empty grate, stretching out his long legs.
She swallowed. She was Kit, she reminded herself, a household servant. Time to get to work.
