Without warning her, he turned, giving her a picture of his back. Quite a handsome back it was, too, with those sinewy muscles and broad shoulders. There were two scars on his back that made her wish to reach out her hand and touch them, so odd were they. The first was a small line near his right shoulder. The second almost a circular scar near the left part of his back.
He had been an adventurer, an explorer—of course he would have scars all over his body. His life had probably been one exciting event after another. Chavensworth was going to prove excessively tedious for him.
When he walked from the bed, she had a fine view of tight buttocks. For a moment, she considered closing her eyes again. But who would know if she studied him?
“Is this the first time you’ve ever seen a naked man, Lady Sarah?”
Her gaze flew to the back of his head. How did he know?
He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled.
She really wished he wouldn’t smile, especially as he was still naked. Nor had he made any attempt to cover himself. Except for a quick flash of a glance, she had determinedly kept her gaze on his face. How very odd that night seemed to suit him. He was most attractivewith his shadow of the beard. Almost wicked-looking.
She shut her eyes before she was tempted to look lower than his chin.
“Of course it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a man without clothes,” she said, refusing to be humiliated.
“Do you care to reciprocate in kind?”
She opened her eyes again, but this time she kept her gaze on the tester above her head.
“I would venture to guess that you’ve seen a naked woman before, Mr. Eston.”
“Ah, but I haven’t seen you.”
She reached over and extinguished the lamp, then sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him before beginning to don her wrapper.
“What are you doing?”
“I only occupied the bed because you were not here, Mr. Eston. Now that you are, I shall return to my cot.”
“A pity,” he said. “It’s a very large bed, and I’m very tired.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder.
“Go back to sleep, Sarah,” he said softly. “I’ll not bother you.”
She wanted to ask him, irrationally and pedantically, if he would promise on his honor to leave her alone, but instead, she remained mute, removed her wrapper, and slid her legs below the counterpane. She lay back on the pillow, her arms at her side.
When he lay beside her, his bare arm brushed against hers. Pulling away would have seemed rude, almost a rebuff. Instead, her skin warmed where they touched. Her little finger was beside his, and she didn’t doubt that if she moved her foot a little to the left, it would brush his leg.
“Do you not sleep in a nightshirt?”
“I do not. Nor have I ever. Nor will I ever.”
“I locked the door,” she said.
“I noticed.”
Did he unlock it? Or did he force the lock? Had he damaged the door? She certainly didn’t want word ofthatgetting around Chavensworth. She could just imagine the gossip below stairs.
She wasn’t about to ask him. Nor could she get up and check herself. Not with him lying there naked.
Moonlight shone into the room, too bright for her peace of mind.
“Isn’t it odd,” she said. “I was so tired earlier, and now I don’t seem to be at all sleepy.”
He didn’t respond.
