“Now what are you doing?” he demanded, his gruff tone at once sullen and curious. He had pulled the bedcovers up to his chin, she noted, uncertain if she was more amused or disappointed.
“Close your eyes,” she ordered gently and lay the towel across his forehead.
A low groan of pleasure sounded in his throat.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“About what?”
“Your dream.” He’d called her brother’s name, several times. “You spoke…a person’s name. I thought perhaps you remembered something.”
“I don’t…can’t remember it now. I can’t remember a damned thing,” he ground out. “You have no idea how frustrating it is to remember nothing of who you are.”
“It will come.” She blotted the damp towel over his cheeks, lifted his head and swabbed the back of his neck.
Without opening his eyes, he exhaled heavily. “That feels good,pet.”
“I’m glad,” she breathed. “Let me cool the towel again.”
She went to the basin and repeated the process, then returned to his side.
He’d scooted closer the bed’s center. Not opening his eyes, he said, “You may as well sit on the bed instead of kneeling on the floor like a servant—if you think you can risk being in my presence.”
She bit back a grin and edged onto the soft mattress, stopping when her hip came into contact with his intractable shoulder. Warmth from his body permeated the sheets and her thin night rail separating them. She knew she should inch back, but she could not make herself do it, deciding if it bothered him, he could slide over further.
Neither budged. Settling in, she leaned over him, smoothing the cool towel over his forehead, his cheeks, and after a time, the length of his throat.
He said nothing, and he made no move to touch her other than where their bodies met, yet she sensed her touch soothed him. As the minutes ticked by, she grew more brazen, setting the towel aside to trace her fingertips over his cheeks, his brows, his scruffy jawline.
When he began to show signs of sleeping, his breaths evening out, his muscles relaxing, she wove her fingers into his hair, luxuriating in the thick, silken locks as she had during the carriage ride from Surrey. He loosed a heavy sigh and turned onto his side toward her, nuzzling his face into the curve of her hip and dropping his arm over her lap to curve his palm around one thigh.
She went perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe as his unconscious intimacy nearly undid her, flooding her with emotions almost too powerful to contain.
His hand flexed on her, then eased higher, gliding over her hip to her waist.
Heat coiled through her. Delicious, enthralling heat that urged her to do something foolish, like join him under the covers. She was inway over her head. As carefully as she could, she peeled his hand off of her and edged off of the bed.
Before she could change her mind, she dashed from the room and returned to her own chamber, where she lay awake a long while, wishing for things that could never be.
The next morning,Georgina woke understandably late and in desperate need for a cup of strong black tea. She donned a simple morning gown, fashioned of soft ivory muslin. Later she would require assistance dressing for the day, but for now, she thought it best to avoid the commotion of footsteps and voices that might carry through the walls to possibly awaken Teddy who would surely still be abed.
She glanced at his closed chamber door as she crept past and made for the stairs. Dr. Penhurst had explained Teddy’s special medicine, while healing, did have the unfortunate side effect of causing fatigue—one of the many aspects of taking the tincture Teddy apparently resented.
She wondered how much of last night’s adventure Teddy would remember when he finally woke.
Nearing the landing, her steps slowed. For her part, she remembered every luscious detail. The pervading sense of intimacy, as she’d sat atop his bed beside him in the dark, soothing him with the cool compress, running her hands over his sculpted face, with its prickly beard, weaving her fingers through his thick hair.
She fanned her flushed cheeks. It was probably best if he did not recall the specifics.
She started toward the dining room when voices, one raised indistinct irritation and coming from the receiving room reached her ears.Teddy?Turning on her heel, she raced for the chamber.
“What do you mean, I need key? Bring it at once,” Teddy bellowed at Peggy.
The poor maid’s reply, Georgina could not make out.
“Fetch me a knife, then. A large one.”
Oh, dear. What could he possibly want with a knife?
