Page 59 of Snowbound with the Scoundrel
Once it was in place, he flopped back down, none too gracefully, mind you, but this wasn’t the time to be prideful about such things.The fire felt so hot on his skin that he thought it might burn him, yet he still felt chilled to the bone, a peculiar sensation.
He wondered if a cup of tea would help, but he didn’t want to put Claire to any trouble fetching water and whatnot.He glanced at her to see if perhaps the same idea had occurred to her…
… only to find that she wasunbuttoning her dress.
Rupert’s four non-frozen brain cells ceased functioning.Claire caught his eye, and he shut his mouth, because, of course, his mouth was gaping open.
“My dress is wet around the hem,” she explained.“My stockings and petticoats as well.I’d best get out of my wet things.”
Far be it for Rupert to stop her.Turning his face toward the back of the sofa would have been the gentlemanly thing to do, but he didn’t have the fortitude at the moment, and Claire didn’t so much as ask him to avert his gaze.
Once she was down to a whisper-thin linen shift, she walked over to the bed in the far corner.Rupert figured she would climb beneath the blankets, but she surprised him by pulling off the quilt, then surprised him even more by bringing it back to the sofa and spreading it over him.
She crawled in with him, taking him in her arms, and he thought his frozen heart might burst with delight.“Is this all right?”she asked.
“This is wonderful,” Rupert replied, burying his cold nose in her warm shoulder.
She stroked soft fingertips across his bare back.“It should help you warm more quickly if we share our body heat.”
Rupert made a garbled sound that was the closest he could come to a laugh.Weariness had descended upon him, and it was suddenly difficult to keep his eyes open.“Here I thought that was my line.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he muttered, pulling her closer.Claire had crawled not only beneath the quilt but inside the woolen blanket with him, meaning that a whisper of linen was the only thing separating his body from hers.It was a testament to how well and truly frozen Rupert was that he wasn’t sporting a cockstand right now, with all of Claire’s warm, soft curves pressed against him.
It was probably for the best.He didn’t want to go ruining the moment.He would always cherish this memory of the time he got to fall asleep with her in his arms…
“Rupert?”He’d never heard Claire’s voice sound so small and hesitant before.
He yawned, trying to fight off the sleep rapidly overcoming him.“Yes?”
She was silent for so long he was starting to drift off when she finally spoke.“I know now that it was my fault that you called off our betrothal two years ago.”
He shook his head.“You mustn’t… blame yourself.Just wasn’t meant to be, I suppose.”
“But what if things had happened differently?”she said in a rush.“I know I can’t go back and unsay those words.That I can never fix things.But is there any chance… I mean, would you ever consider…”
Rupert felt a tingly sensation at the base of his skull.He had a feeling this was one of those important conversations, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.“What is it, Claire?”
Her voice was little more than a whisper.“Do you think you could be happy being married to someone like me?”
Rupert sighed.
Of course, he would be happy being married to Claire.She was everything he had ever wanted.
That had never been the problem.The problem was that she didn’t want the likes of him.
“I would be happier than I could possibly say, being married to you,” he answered honestly.“You’re”—he paused as a yawn escaped—“perfect.”
Claire squeezed him tight.She was saying something, but sleep was pulling him under.
He drifted off to the soft voice of the woman he loved, snug and happy in her arms.
Chapter25
Clarissa awoke to the smell of almond biscuits.
The fire was low but still burning, and the first faint glow of morning light was showing at the windows.The hunting cabin’s air was crisp against her face, but the rest of her felt wonderfully warm snuggled up with Rupert.
