“How the devil did you get into this eyesore?” He frowned in concentration, grasped her shoulders and turned her around. “I’d imagine you need a lady’s maid to get in and out of this trap.”
“Yes!” Elle winced and held the front to her chest as he loosened the fasteners from behind. She’d never imagined such an unlikely scenario. “Er, my sister helped me.”
She kept her chin down, oddly relaxed by the warmth of his fingertips as he worked behind her. “Almost there,” he said. His breath stirred the hair near her face, sending a shiver running through her entire frame.
Once he’d loosened the gown, he dropped his hands to rest on her waist. “Are you cold?” he asked.
Was she cold? How could she be cold when her insides were burning up?
“I’m fine, thank you,” Elle whispered. She opened her eyes and, catching sight of her blue hands clutching her now blue gown, let out a little moan. “I’m a mess.” How was she going to explain this when she got home?
“You really are.” But he had not moved. “Wait here.”
In no position to argue, she merely nodded and listened to him dash up the stairs and then return a few minutes later.
He’d fetched a bin of water and soap and more than one linen cloth. By this point, Elle wasn’t sure where to begin.
For the first time in her life, she realized how pampered she’d been to have the services of her lady’s maid. And she wished desperately to have them presently.
Mr. Dodd stood in front of her, his hair slightly mussed, wearing a perplexed expression that did nothing to detract from his ridiculously good looks.
But when she reached out to take the bowl from him, he held up a staying hand and set the bin down on a nearby chair.
“You’re beyond saving yourself.” Mr. Dodd’s mouth twitched but he allowed no argument as he dampened one of the cloths and turned back to face her.
And then, he oh, so carefully took her hand in his and smoothed it down the back of her wrist.
He was barely touching her, and yet she’d never experienced anything that had felt so intimate.
What was the matter with her? He was… Mr. Dodd!
And yet she did not pull away.
“It’s coming off.” His voice sounded gruffer than usual, turning her wrist with one hand, cleaning her palm with the other.
Elle nodded. The more he worked, the tighter her chest felt, but this time she couldn’t blame her inability to breathe on her wardrobe.
The fault belonged to the imposing presence of this man. And his hands. And the puffs of breath that caressed her cheeks.
“I think that’s most of it,” he finally declared, stepping away. “I’ll fetch the clean gown for you.”
The next second, he’d tossed the lavender gown over the top of the screen. “Can you manage from here?”
“I—I think so,” she answered.
And then Mr. Dodd dashed up the stairs as though the hounds of hell nipped at his heels. Leaving Elle in silence.
Alone in the dimly lit basement which suddenly felt much colder than it had only a few minutes ago, Elle clumsily finished cleaning her face and then pulled the lavender gown on with only a little more grace than she’d gotten her previous gown off with. And if a few of the buttons down her back were still askew by the time she made her return upstairs—well, she didn’t care to know.
Blocking
Following a restless night, Carter dismissed his attraction to Miss Sparrow as an anomaly. He’d seen her half-dressed, for God’s sake. How was any red-blooded man supposed to feel?
True, watching Miss Sparrow smile twisted his insides, and her laughter lit up his office like the sun on a cloudless day, but that was only because she lacked the cynicism he’d grown accustomed to. Because although theaters relied upon every conceivable form of art, it was, first and foremost, a business.
One season working at Drury Lane would cure her naïveté.
He simply needed to keep her on the opposite side of his office so he could focus on the task at hand rather than…her clean, sweet scent.
