“Ah, yes.” A small set of brass keys, secured to Godric’s wrist by a leather string, gleamed underneath the sunlight. Emily debated: wait until he woke on his own, or try to escape now and chance waking him in her attempt to snatch the keys.
The hand with the keys lay on the opposite side of the bed, which was a little too close to the wall for her to get to. To reach them, Emily had to crawl over him. Her pulse beat wildly and her blood roared in her ears as she tried to accept what she would have to do. She’d have to touch him, the man who’d kidnapped and drugged her. Not just touch him…but crawl over the length of his body…in his bed. Could she do this? Her father had always called her brave. But being so close to a man, alone and locked inside with him in a bedroom, was she brave enough to get the keys?
Her eyes closed and she summoned the courage she’d called upon so easily the night before.
I can do this. I must do this.
She lifted her skirts past her knees and put one foot on the oak bed frame as she climbed. Hands and knees far apart, she dispersed her weight. The last thing she needed was to dip the bed and waken the devil.
Godric was so big, she had to reach with much care to grab the keys without falling. Emily held her breath and leaned over, her breasts inches from skimming over his back as she sought the tools to her freedom. She looped one finger under the leather strap around hiswrist, and pulled it toward her, but the leather stuck to his skin.
She would have to touch him. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. The air in her lungs burned and she tried in vain to find an alternative. There wasn’t one. She needed the keys and they were attached to the man in the bed.
Emily used her thumb and forefinger to lift his wrist an inch off the bed as her other hand dragged the keys from under his arm.
The fabric around her knees started to slide. Gravity worked against her precarious position. Another second and she’d—
Thump!
Emily fell onto Godric’s back lying perpendicular to him. He groaned softly, rolling onto his back beneath her and she shifted over him to stay on top. His right hand—the keys still laced there—settled on her lower back, patting it.
Emily inhaled sharply. She was stretched out across his stomach and groin. He was still asleep. She shifted, trying to reach his hand without alerting him.
“Hmm…you naughty girl.” Godric’s face broke into a dreamy smile. “Evangeline, now don’t squirm.”
Evangeline?Probably his mistress. Emily scowled and reached for his hand again, but her movement was pointless. Godric’s hand drifted over her backside and struck her bottom in a playful spank.
She wrenched her body free. “How dare you!” Her feet tangled in the covers and she tripped onto the floor, trying to escape the bed.
Godric blinked at her. “What the—Miss Parr? What in God’s name are you doing in my bedchamber?” He shot up but fell back down against the pillows, slinging his forearm over his eyes with a groan.
Emily fled to the far corner of the room, heart beating against her ribs like a caged bird. His muscles flexed as he moved, like a large, sleek panther. For a second, she imagined the protection he could offer—his body cast before her as a shield, his muscles taut and forearms tense. Then she remembered how he’d taken her from the coach and the violence of the battle between them.
“Let me go at once!”
“I’m not holding you,” he said in an irritated growl.
“I meant, let me leave. My chamber is locked.” She stamped her slippered foot and glared, but the force was lost on him because he remained flat on his back, his eyes shut. “I demand to be released!”
“I demand peace and quiet in the morning,” Godric muttered under his breath.
“Well?” Emily stamped the ground again, rather annoyed that she had no other means to get his attention. She didn’t dare go closer. The memory of his body overpowering hers the previous night left her quaking anew with fear, but she was determined to maintain a brave front.
He cast off his bed sheet and sat up. She nearly swooned upon the glimpse of his bare chest. He smiled and took his time reaching for the sheet to recover himself. Emily struggled to breathe, her face afire. Was that what a half-clothed man looked like? He looked…fierce. Every strip of muscle and corded steel beneath his flesh whispered of violence and danger. Her throat went dry and she licked her lips as she tried to calm her racing heart.
“Care to join me, Miss Parr?” He patted the bed.
Emily took an involuntary step back, her shoulder blades hitting the door behind her.
“I was only joking.” A slight frown wilted his lips, as though her reaction unsettled him.
“A joke? Please, Your Grace, enlighten me as to how this situation is remotely amusing. I must get back to London immediately and try to repair the damage you’ve wrought to my reputation.”To my life. She wrung her hands together, trying anything to ease the anxiety that rippled just beneath her skin.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” His reply didn’t make sense at first, because she hadn’t expected him to deny her the right to leave.
“What? Why not?”
“Because I brought you here to ruin you.”
