“Your knee.” He looked at the body part in question as though he could see it through her skirts. He swallowed. “I’ll, uh, raise your gown just enough to have a look, shall I? Or I could call for a doctor?” He sounded much too hopeful for her liking.
There was nothing wrong with her knees that should make him leery of seeing them. Any man would be lucky to see her knees. And, damn it, she’d make him realize that.
“No doctor.” She dug the tips of her fingers into the material on her thighs and pulled it up an inch. He’d have to work for the rest. “You seem more than competent at treating minor wounds. I believe you said you used to box? Did you have to patch yourself up often?”
He didn’t answer, not unless one considered a grunt as a response, which Juliana didn’t. So, he didn’t want to talk about his past life. Didn’t want to have an affair, and she didn’t think it was because he wasn’t attracted to her. There were a whole host of ‘didn’ts’ when it came to this man. He had walls thicker than a fortress.
And Juliana wanted nothing more than to tear them down.
Steeling himself like he would be uncovering something ghastly between her legs, Brogan eased her skirts up over her knees. He kept his gaze focused on the scraped and swollen skin, as though if he let himself look anywhere else, he’d turn into a pillar of salt.
She didn’t know if it was anger at his attitude, the high emotions resulting from a near-death experience, or just her natural perverseness, but Juliana let her thighs fall open. Just a little. Just enough to relax her muscles. And set Brogan to grinding his jaws together.
He pulled out the alcohol again and slapped the cloth on her skin with a bit more vigor than needed.
She narrowed her eyes. “Do you have somewhere else you need to be? Another woman to tend to?”
He looked up, startled. “No.”
“Then perhaps you could slow down with that cloth. You’re rubbing more skin right off.”
“Sorry.” He pulled the cloth away then blew on her knee. “I’ll wrap a bandage around it to help with the swelling. You should rest it for the next couple of days.”
“It’s only some scrapes and bruises. I know you must have had much worse and still somehow managed to get on with your life.” She eyed the spread of his shoulders, the meatiness of his hands. Perhaps he hadn’t had to deal with much pain. He looked like he would have been the one inflicting it in the ring. But still, it was the principle of the matter. “How delicate do you think women are?”
“Your kind are especially fragile.” He took a roll of linen from his box and shook it out.
Juliana sat forward, putting her face in his. “My kind? Unlike the women in your social circle?”
He didn’t answer.
She threw out her hands. “I’m not a separate species just because I’m an earl’s daughter. I’m like any other woman of your acquaintance.”
He snorted and began winding the cloth around her knee.
Heat raced up the back of her neck. “Truly, your ignorance is impressive. People think class bigotry only resides in the aristocracy, but they’ve obviously never met you. Why should you treat me differently than any other woman?”
He knotted the linen and placed both his hands on her knees as he glared at her. “Why do you insist on pretending to be like one of the commoners? People are different according to their status. The rules are different. What do you think would happen if your father and brother found out I had dallied with you? They would rightfully come for my head, and I’d have to kill them defending myself. Do you want that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Obviously not. But don’t you think you’re exaggerating just a bit? As I’ve said, I’ve had an affair before—”
His fingers tightened on her legs.
“—and it was nothing but a lovely experience. We didn’t announce it to the world. Such relationships are quite common among the Ton, and I’ll bet in the working class, too.”
He rubbed his thumbs along her skin. The motion seemed unconscious. Natural. And sent a delicious curl of heat through her core. She instinctively widened her thighs a bit more.
“Perhaps among widows, not unmarried women.” He inhaled, and a low sound rumbled through his chest. “It wouldn’t be right.”
She reached out and smoothed a lick of hair behind his ear. She cupped his cheek, enjoying the bristle so unlike her own smooth skin. “Why live how others wish? Why not live by your own rules? Unless you believe I’m a fallen woman. Impure.” The word was bitter on her tongue. Among her friends, social conventions were paid little mind. It would hurt if this man thought less of her because she hadn’t remained chaste. If he thought she was a harrid—
“No.” He grabbed her hand and kept it pressed to his cheek, turning his face into it to kiss her palm. He rolled down to his knees and closed his eyes. “Don’t ever think that.”
She bent over and framed his face with her hands. “Then live by your own rules. By the ones we make together.” She brushed her mouth over his, gently taking his lower lip and sucking on it. “Please, Brogan. I want you so much.”
More than she ever had James. Her want was so deep it shocked her.
He opened his eyes. She saw the conflict. The desire. Needing to make the decision easier for him, she winked and said, “You still need to check my hip.” With one last kiss, she leaned back and hooked her fingers under the edge of her skirts. She slowly, seductively, slid the fabric up her thighs, giving Brogan a view of her pantalets.
