“But I was thinking, if it comes down to it, we could probably break up that”—she motioned to the wooden chair he had been sitting on—“and use it for firewood.”
His face brightened as he looked at the chair. “You are absolutely brilliant, Cilla.”
“But first”—she pointed to the blanket—“get out of your wet clothes.”
She moved back to the sofa and reclined, resting her foot on the armrest again. She turned slightly toward the cushions so she wouldn’t see him remove his clothes. But although she couldn’t see, she heard the wet garments coming off, and could imagine what he looked like. That was not a good thing at all.
Waiting for him to undress was making her anxious. Without looking at the fire, she could tell it was getting low again. Hopefully, he had the strength to break the wooden chair apart, because she doubted she could do it.
His puffing sounded ragged, and she could tell he was shivering. “Gavin? Are you all right?”
“I’m almost done, but we will definitely need more fire in a minute. Those logs you found didn’t last long.”
“I know. There should be an ax somewhere around this place. I will go look for it. I’m sure you are in no condition to do that.”
“True, but neither are you. And if you go outside to find it, you will end up just like me—cold as a glacier, with only a blanket for warmth.”
“And,” she added, “with teeth chattering loudly.”
He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”
“Indeed. I believe the chatter is echoing through the room.”
He laughed harder. “I’m done now.”
She turned and saw him sitting by the fire, looking shriveled with his blanket. His clothes were draped over the chair that would eventually be used for firewood. However, at the moment, it was needed to help dry his clothes.
Sighing, she scanned the room, looking for something else that might work for firewood. In the corner was a bookcase, holding only four books. “Your Grace, what if—”
“Cilla, please remember, you promised to call me Gavin.”
She nodded. “Gavin, would you be terribly upset if we used those books to help the fire?”
He glanced at the bookcase. “Not at all. In fact, I might use the bookcase as well.”
He trembled as he moved toward the corner of the room. The blanket didn’t cover all of his legs, and from the calves down, they were bare, and very muscular. He had large feet, but then again, he was a tall man.
Feeling ashamed for admiring his legs, she tried to look away, but it was impossible. The poor man shivered so badly as he gathered the books. The blanket slipped off one shoulder, and she could see part of his wide chest.
Look away, Priscilla!And yet she ignored the warning in her head and watched him in fascination as he took the books to the fireplace and threw them in one at a time. Soon, the fire grew, but more wood was needed.
Knowing he needed her help, she moved off the couch and met him at the empty bookshelves. He met her stare. His face was pale, and his lips were turning blue. She couldn’t let him freeze to death.
“Here, let me.” She lifted one of the shelves and carried it to the fire. Thankfully, the whole shelf fit inside the hearth.
She turned back to him and pushed him toward the sofa. “Sit,” she instructed him.
Once he was on the cushion, she sat beside him, draping her blanket around both of them. Skepticism was in his expression when his gaze met hers.
“You look like death. I’ll share my body heat, but just know, I’m only doing this to save your life.”
He shakily nodded and cuddled beside her. After a few minutes, she knew he wasn’t getting warm enough, so she turned and wrapped her arms around him. He rested his head on her shoulder as she briskly rubbed her hands up and down his arms and back.
The fire finally put out more heat, and slowly, Gavin stopped trembling. It was strange having him up against her like this, and yet at the same time, it comforted her. Of course, she reasoned that she felt this way because she was trying to keep him from turning into an icicle. For some reason, though, she didn’t want him to move. And sharing their body heat made her warm as well.
Hearing his breathing was relaxing, and lulled her to dreamland. Her eyelids grew heavy, and although she fought it, she lost. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his. Although what they were doing was certainly improper, it felt so nice, and right now, she needed this as much as he did.
After she had given her heart to him eighteen months ago and he had fed it to the wolves, she died inside. At that time, she vowed to never trust a man again. Yet she found herself wanting to give Gavin another chance. If they were to be true friends, she must trust him.
