He couldn’t afford to think about that. That way lay nothing good. She was strictly off-limits, and if he convinced himself that she wanted him in any capacity, it would be so much harder to hold back.
No, he would have to be a gentleman about this. And under no circumstances ask her to remove another item of his clothing. That had been a mistake, if his body’s reaction was any indication.
Squaring his shoulders, he approached the stairs, determined to find some chores he could do before going back to visit Emily. When he did, he wanted to appear perfectly normal. That way, she would not think he was placing undue emphasis on what had passed between them.
If he was lucky, she would not have noticed how much he had enjoyed her removing his shirt.
What he really needed was a release. But, at a push, hard labour would do.
Anything to take his mind off how much he wanted the prickly, unapproachable, unexpectedly appealing lady in the bed upstairs.
Chapter Fourteen
Thenextfewdayspassed uneventfully. Emily remained in bed, in part because she had no desire to leave, and in part because Mrs Chambers and Oliver insisted on it. While he left on occasion to visit the household and help with chores, he still spent most of his time with her, either reading or playing cards.
By the end of the third day, she was heartily sick of whist and Vingt-un, and was relieved to wake the next day to a clear head and hunger pangs.
Finally.
Oliver still snored in the truckle bed, so she dressed as quietly as she was able, hoping not to disturb him. Although he had treated her precisely the same as he always had since the shirt-removal incident, she couldn’t get the image of his torso from her mind.
That little line of hair snaking down to—
She shook her head, trying to force the image from her head as she slipped from the door. But she had only reached the dining room when Oliver tumbled down the stairs after her,resplendent in shirtsleeves once again. His hair was carelessly dishevelled in a way that made every muscle in her body tighten.
“Emily!” he said, coming to a stop before her. “What are you doing out and about?”
“It’s about time I had some fresh air.”
“Outside? But it’s freezing.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to,” she said. “I’m doing it anyway.”
He clucked his tongue in irritation. “You areincapableof rest.”
“I’ve had three full days of rest, Oliver, and if you force me back upstairs into that tiny room, I might lose my mind.”
He heaved a sigh. “Fine. In that case, allow me the honour of showing you around. You’ll need all your wits about you to escape Clarabella.”
“Who onearthis Clarabella?” she asked, mystified.
“You’ll know when you see her.” He grinned and released her arm. “After breakfast, Emily.”
“I don’t appreciate this ordering me about you’re doing.”
Mrs Chambers rounded the corner from the kitchen, and Oliver immediately shifted his hold on Emily, drawing her closer against his body. The sudden proximity and his warmth startled her that she didn’t move away, not even when he rested a light hand on her waist. Her face flamed. Being touched like this made her feel dizzy all over again, but this time she suspected it had nothing to do with being hit in the head with a brick.
Drat it all. She’d thought she’d overcome this strange fascination with him, but here she was, her heart fluttering as though she were seventeen all over again.
She stepped back, and Oliver let her. “I’m feeling much better,” she announced, trying to look utterly unperturbed. “I’d like to go outside today.”
“Oh good,” Mrs Chambers said, and beamed at Oliver. “Doris will be glad to see you.”
“Doris?” Emily stared at Oliver. “First Clarabella, then Doris.”
“Ah, you’ll like Doris,” Mrs Chambers said, “but Clarabella is a nasty piece of work. You watch out for her, now.” And then, as if she had not said something utterly bemusing, she bustled past Emily and into the parlour.
Emily rubbed her temples. “Am I still dreaming?”
