Caro crossed the chamber, stopping at the bedside to gaze down at him. His dark hair hung over his brow—it had already been long, but it was getting longer now. His jaw was sharp and wide, angled like his cheekbones, his lips full and sensual. And now she knew how that mouth felt moving over hers.
Transcendent.
But she must not think of that now. Nor must she allow him to linger here. Jasper had required his guards to be extra vigilant after her joint trip with Gavin to his office. In his curt, gruff manner, Jasper had merely warned her with two words.
No bastards.
Now that she thought upon it, she could not be certain if her brother had been advising her to stay away from Gavin because he was a bastard Winter or if he was cautioning her against engaging in activity that would lead to her having a child out of wedlock. Both, she supposed.
Gently, she shook Gavin’s shoulder to wake him. How she wished she could call him by name, and that she could confess everything to him. But Jasper had insisted they maintain this ruse for a bit longer, and she was bound by her promise to him.
Gavin jolted awake, blinking sleepily up at her. “Caro?” He frowned as he took in her blonde wig and revealing dress. “What the devil are you wearing?”
She was aware of how she looked in the dress—her bosom pushed high and full out the top, all the better for their patrons to ogle her as she serenaded them. She withdrew her hand and tugged at her bodice, but it was a futile war she waged. The dress was tight, her stays designed to force her breasts heavenward. There was to be no modesty dressed as she was.
“I am wearing a gown, of course,” she said, frowning back at him. “What are you doing in my bed?”
“Sleeping.” He rose into a sitting position, and she could not help but to notice how much of the bed he occupied with his massive frame.
For some reason, although he had been staying in her bed for the duration of his time at The Sinner’s Palace, she had not placed any emphasis upon it. He had been desperately wounded when he had arrived, and she had been so consumed with seeing to his care that she had scarcely been aware he was a man. But there was something deliciously intimate about the sight of him, his cheeks flush with color, his body replenished, in her bed.
He was watching her, scowling absently as his green gaze roamed over all the bare skin she had on display. She wished he had not seen her dressed as she was. What must he think of her?
Banishing the thought, she twisted her fingers in the skirts of her scarlet gown. “Of course you were sleeping. That was plain as the nose on my face. But it does nothing to explain why you were sleepingin my bed.”
He grinned, and it was so boyish, so handsome, she felt the effect of it to her toes. “There is nothing about your nose—or any part of you for that matter—which is plain. And I sleep in your bed each night, unless you have forgotten.”
Despite the accuracy of his statement and the innocence of it, her face flamed. “You are being unlike yourself this evening.”
“Am I?” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Deuced impossible to know what is like myself and what isn’t, wouldn’t you say? But I could say the same for you. I waited hours for you, and you never arrived, only to turn up dressed as a ladybird.”
A ladybird. Was that what she looked like? She glanced down at herself and had to admit it was. She had felt like one this evening as well. So many eyes had been upon her. So many lascivious comments had been called as she sang.
“I needed to entertain our patrons this evening,” she said, chancing a glance back at Gavin and hoping she would not read disgust or disapproval in his expression.
“I thought you were the healer.” Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “What manner of entertaining were you expected to perform? Does your brother truly demand this of you? I’m bloody outraged, Caro. I ought to beat him to a pulp on your behalf.”
Gavin was broader of form than Jasper, but she had no doubt that if the two men were to battle against each other, they would be fairly evenly matched in terms of size and strength. Gavin’s reputation as a champion prizefighter, however, did not bode well for her brother.
She tugged at her bodice once more, feeling increasingly irritated with her costume by the moment. “You were never to have seen me thus.”
Her grumbled words of irritation had him rising from the bed altogether to tower over her. “I was never to have seen you at all, any longer, was I?”
There it was—the acknowledgment of the time that had passed between them.
She wanted to touch him. To throw herself into Gavin’s arms. But her bloody wig was itching her head.
Caro sighed. “My brother is being protective.”
His lip curled. “Doesn’t look that way to me.”
He was not wrong to make assumptions based upon her appearance. “My head is hot and I need to remove these curls before I swoon.”
“Christ, woman, let me help you.” He was scowling once more as he took her hand in his and led her to a chair, putting gentle pressure on her shoulders until she dutifully sat.
There was a small looking glass facing her, reflecting both of them. She was at once reminded of how much flesh she was showing and of how handsome he was, despite the fact he was frowning with displeasure.
“How many ladies have you helped to remove their wigs?” she asked, intending to lighten the mood between them but instantly realizing her error in judgment.
