It’s just a dress.A dress and a fake marriage that will only last for a few weeks. He doesn’t want me forever. He’s only helping me now because he knows there’s no one else I can ask. He’s the one who asked for an annulment, the one who refused the idea of a real marriage with me in under a second.
She repeated the words in her head, trying to remind herself of her situation. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in any fancy ideas of a future with Yuri. Everything he’d done so far—including holding her last night after her nightmare—had all been done out of kindness, nothing more. Yuri might well be the kindest person on the Pacific Ocean, but that didn’t mean he had feelings for her like she had for him.
He worked in silence behind her, his movements careful and slow. The first button slipped free. Then the next.
She closed her eyes. Maybe it was a blessing she couldn’t see his face.
His breath brushed the back of her neck as he undid more buttons, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t even clear his throat. Just kept going, one button at a time, until the bodice loosened and sagged around her shoulders.
She gripped the front of the fabric to keep it in place. “You can turn your back now. I’ll get the rest.”
“And then what? You’ll have me turn around and see what removing the dress has revealed so I can unwrap the bandage? Just let me help with the whole thing. You shouldn’t have to fight with your dress while I’m standing right here.”
How did he know she’d fought with it earlier?
Never mind. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was right. It would be much easier to let him finish helping, and the end result would be no different. In a few minutes he’d see her with her bindings undone, wearing nothing but her bloomers and chemise.
Heat filled her chest, then rushed up to her cheeks.
“So do you want me to help? You can do it yourself if that’s truly what you want.”
“You can help,” she whispered.
He moved around in front of her. She kept her eyes on the carved detailing of the washstand behind him, refusing to meet his gaze as she loosened her fingers from the front of her gown.
He eased the sleeves from her arms, and the bodice dropped away, falling halfway down her hips, where the flair in her petticoat caught it. The action revealed her bindings down to her waist. Normally she’d be wearing a corset, but her bindings disappeared beneath the waist of her petticoat instead.
He reached for her waist, then stopped, his hands pausing midair. “It, ah... it looks like I’m going to need to unfasten your petticoat. Is that all right, or do you want to do it?”
“You can do it,” she muttered. She’d spent ten minutes fighting with the dratted thing that morning, too embarrassed to ask for Yuri’s help with it. But she couldn’t imagine being any more embarrassed now, and just like with the dress, he’d have to see her without her petticoat to help with the bindings anyway.
He moved around to her back again, his movements gentle as he tugged at the waist of the garment, probably trying to find the hidden hooks that held it up. It took him maybe half a minute, and then he slowly peeled it back, letting both the petticoat and her dress fall to the floor and pool around her feet.
Yuri stepped back around to her face, then reached for the loose end of her bindings near her side and undid the pin. “Tell me if anything hurts.”
“It all hurts,” she whispered, her throat tightening. “Even with the bandage on, but I don’t want pneumonia.”
He didn’t respond, just began to unwind the bandage. His movements were so slow and careful, it almost seemed he was afraid the fabric itself might break her if he tugged wrong or moved too fast.
He moved from her front to her back, then around to her front again, following the path of the bandage. She wasn’t going to think about how the movement gave him a full look at her body from every angle as she stood there in nothing but her bloomers and chemise and a quickly disappearing bandage.
The longer he worked, the more the pressure around her ribs began to ease. She wasn’t sure if she liked the sensation. The pain at the bottom of her ribs turned sharper, but the rest of her body seemed to relax, almost as though her muscles themselves had needed to breathe.
She stared straight ahead at the curtains as he reached the final turn, not wanting to look down to see what her wrinkled, sweaty chemise might have revealed, and certainly not wanting to meet his eyes.
Was she being ridiculous? There was a medical reason for what Yuri was doing, and it was nothing to feel embarrassed about. Nathan had seen her in her bloomers and chemise numerous times.
But it had never felt this intimate.
Maybe because she didn’t fancy herself in love with Nathan, and Kate had been there every time they’d removed her nightgown and rewrapped or adjusted the bindings.
Yuri pulled the last of the bandage away, then walked to the dresser and set it down. “Where do you want to practice your breathing? Do you want to do it in bed?”
“Nathan and Kate said I should be able to draw more air into my lungs while I stand.” She didn’t wait for him to return to her side. She simply sucked in a breath, as big and as large as she could.
Oh, heavens, it hurt. Pain seared her lower ribs, and a whimper escaped her lips. But she didn’t stop, not even when tears stung her eyes. She forced as much air into her lungs as possible, then blew it out.
“Rosalind?” Yuri was by her side in an instant, rubbing a small circle in the center of her upper back. “Are you sure you’re doing it right? I don’t think it’s supposed to be so painful.”
