behaved, or what they wanted, so she wasn’t certain why Captain Chamberlin had been so brazen, and when it had been occurring, she’d been so shocked that she hadn’t reacted.
But throughout the remainder of the endless night, she’d ruminated over it. Her skin had burned where he’d petted her, and her breasts felt fuller, cumbersome, her nipples erect and throbbing till dawn.
Restless and aching, grouchy from lack of sleep, she’d somehow found the courage to face him, and she’d been delighted to discover that he didn’t recollect the incident. Thank heavens! If he ever mentioned the scandalous episode, she’d expire from mortification.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“No.”
Perching on the mattress, she began unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t help or hinder her efforts, and she was relieved. She was determined to wash him, and if he’d resisted, she might have tied him to the bedposts.
“Won’t your husband object to your bathing me?”
“My husband?” She was temporarily confused, but she hastily regrouped. “I’m a widow.”
“How long has it been?”
“Many years.” Her reply was deliberately enigmatic, for she wasn’t inclined to discuss her purported spouse, though she did have a complete tale to tell if pressed.
“How could that be? You can’t be a day over thirty.”
“Do I look that bad?” She took a quick peek in the mirror. “I’m only twenty-eight.”
“Oops. Sorry. My flattery skills are a tad rusty.”
He was silent as she finished with the buttons and tugged the hem out of the waistband of his trousers. She started to draw the lapels off his shoulders, as he struggled to sit up, but she pushed him down.
“Let me do all the work.”
“It’s awkward.”
“Shut your eyes. Concentrate on something else, on something pleasant.”
He did, and soon, an enormous smile creased his cheeks, though it was mostly concealed by his unruly beard.
“What are you envisioning?” she queried.
“You. Without any clothes.”
“Captain Chamberlin!” She blushed from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
“Sorry,” he apologized again, but he didn’t seem very repentant.
“It won’t do you any good to distract or fluster me. I’m going to do this if it kills me.”
“You’ve made that very clear.”
“So don’t be difficult.”
“I’ll try not to be.”
She scowled at him, and a smile still curved his lips, and she suspected that mischief was his ingrained nature. Very likely, he thrived on rascality, and no doubt, had he been healthier, he’d have been impossible to tolerate.
Not intending to be dissuaded, she yanked at his shirt and tossed the fetid garment on the floor. He was rail-thin, and he was bandaged everywhere, the wrappings dirty and gray. Where he wasn’t bandaged, she could see spots where he’d been sewn, the stitchwork ragged and crudely accomplished. Some of the scars had healed while others, though they’d been inflicted months earlier, were red and inflamed.
No wonder he couldn’t get back on his feet!
“Dear God in heaven, what happened to you?” she murmured.
“I was shot a few times—”
“Shot!”
“—and stabbed.”
“They filleted you like a fish!”
“They tried,” he quietly admitted. “They didn’t succeed.”
He held out a swathed arm for her to unbind. “No,” she decided, “we’ll remove them in the water. It will be easier.”
Unsettled, her fingers went to the placard of his pants. They were laced at the front, and she commenced with the tie, when he stopped her. “Must we take them off here? Can’t we do it down at the pool?”
“It’ll be less taxing if you’re lying down.”
Because he’d lost so much weight, his trousers were very loose and simple to dislodge, and she pulled them down his hips, baring his stomach, his abdomen, but as his manly hair poked out, she halted.
This was so much more complex than she’d imagined it would be! It was one thing to bluster to Kate