A muscle tensed in his jaw. “I’m going tothe beach.”
“Teaching a bear to genuflect is easier thangetting you to work.” A gust of wind wafted the choking bite ofdust motes around them to underscore her words.
“Pardon me,” he thundered.
How dare he try to stare her down. “You arefree to do whatever you like while I am left to do everything.”
“Michel de Montaigne.”
Her broom froze mid-air. “Pardon me?”
“You quoted a French statesman,” hebellowed.
“You are like a blast of trumpets wastingmoments in loudness, and I’m ready to add my own quote but I don’tthink you’d like it,” she snapped.
He grumbled a lot but made many trips withfresh pails of water, helping her to move the heavy trunks aside,while she dusted and washed down the shelves, walls, drawers,table, and chairs.
“You surprise me with your industry.”
“You think I’m immune to labor?”
Didn’t he look like St. Sebastian, piercedwith a million arrows? Of course, he’d seethed martyrdom. In fourlong strides, he loomed over her. Mocking him and his damnedintegrity had been a miscalculation on her part.
“A fire swept through one of the villages ofthe Rutland Estate. With my own hands, I helped rebuild severalcottages, and then helped the tenants get their crops in thefield.” His voice dropped lower, husky. “I have many other skillsthat you are unaware of, Miss Elwins.”
Her mouth opened and closed, skewered withhis double entendre. He was gone in a trice, buckets bangingagainst the doorframe and his long legs churning up the distance tothe stream.
She had hit a nerve. Her energy flagged, andshe didn’t want to start an altercation. Dusk settled over thehouse. So much more to do. Tomorrow she’d sweep and mop thefloorboards until they shined.
The feather mattress had been returned tothe rope bed and quilts thrown on top. She swallowed. The bedyielded an intimacy she could not allow. Last night, Lord Rutlandhad been asleep when she had moved next to him.Safe.
Nicholas set buckets of water on the tableand dropped into a chair. His long legs stretched out in front ofhim, and he turned the pineapple in his hands, scrutinizing it. Howhe arrested her attention. Without considering the propriety of it,she studied him with thoughtful curiosity, tall, lean, full darkbeard, and a countenance revealing every arrogant line of hisaristocratic features. She even found beautiful the hand that roseto wipe the moisture from his brow, and the most amazing blueeyesand realized they were staring back at her.
Startled, her heart shuddered, stopping fora moment, and then began beating anew at a frantic pace. He’d beenangry most of the day, had pushed long and hard through the jungle,and made her leave the lagoon with barely an explanation. She haddiscounted his annoyance from not knowing what had happened to hisfamily and being stranded in a foreign environment.
Yet, she didn’t know what emotion it was hecaused to rise within her. It could not be fear. She grewflustered. It wasn’t fear. She resisted the same curious sensationsas she observed him. Something leaped along her spine. He wasdevastatingly handsome, forbiddingly severe. Overall, she thoughthis countenance one of the most compelling and fiercest she hadever seen.
He was all a Duke would be.
Her face grew warm as the seconds eclipsedand nothing was said. Her embarrassment became complete when shebeheld his half naked dress. He had no shirt and his breeches werewet and clung to powerful thighs, the corded muscles ripplingbeneath, in what could only be considered indecent. She raised hereyes, the expanse of muscles in his arms and chest weren’tdissimilar, but with the lean grace of gentlemen she’d seen inLondon.
How disgraceful she was to gawk at him.
She looked across the room, at anything tothwart the heat of his gaze.
“I bathed in the river. I’m exhausted andneed sleep.”
She looked at the bed and cleared herthroat. No way could they share the same bed.
“You haven’t had much to eat,” she said, thewords tumbling off her tongue as if she were no more than asimpleton. His state of undress bunched her thoughts together likeovercooked porridge, and because she couldn’t think of anythingless mundane to say, she looked twice as obtuse.
She took the pineapple, sliced it in halfand shoved it toward him. Moaning, he ate greedily, plunging hismouth into the fruit and sucking the sweet juices from the skin.Alexandra nibbled at her portion.
When he finished his repast, which wasn’tanywhere quick enough, he stood. All she could focus on was hisimpressively wide shoulders, the light furring on his chest,following a line down to his waist. He chuckled and her eyessnapped to his face. Did he think she was inspecting him?
Her heart raced as he leaned toward her andwiped a drop of juice from her chin. “You missed that.”
Her breath caught.
