The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold by Callen Gayle

Author:Callen, Gayle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oliver Heber Books
Published: 2021-12-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Margery said, “My suitors have decided to return to London after the celebration.”

Gareth listened to her voice, husky, low, arousing. Never had he let a woman affect him so. Though she was only tending his wounds, a shudder moved through him as if she were making love to him.

He stared in surprised fascination at her hands. She took a fresh cloth and dipped one edge in wine. Her free hand rested on his shoulder as she dabbed the welt on his arm. He was light-headed from the smell of roses, and the danger of her secrets seemed far away.

“Why did the noblemen decide to leave?” he finally asked. He knew he had the upper hand, yet his voice sounded dazed.

“I think your battle this morning brought to light a division among themselves. They found it amusing to court me as a group, but never considered how competition could divide them.”

“They’ve been divided? It hasn’t seemed that way to me.”

Her eyes glistened with angry satisfaction as she dried him off with a towel. “Gareth, they’ve become so quarrelsome that some were backing you this morn.”

“Hard to believe,” he murmured. His gaze followed the tumble of her hair down to her breasts. If he reached out now, he knew she’d let him touch her. He could barely resist dragging her to the floor beneath him. He wanted to pull her clothes off and lick her body as if it were the sweetest marzipan candy.

“I’ve promised that I would see them all again at Avery Cabot’s annual tournament. Have you attended before?” She reached into a glass jar until her fingers were coated in something gray, like old grease.

“Until they refused to invite me. What is that?” he asked, grabbing her wrist before she could touch him.

“A salve to protect your wounds,” she said in a bewildered, dreamy voice.

He watched her eyes drop down his body. “I won’t need it,” he said. “Besides, it will get all over the bed.”

What would she do if he led her there now? Once again, they were alone in a bedchamber. Her blushes were lovely.

“I have bandages,” she said. “And why did the Cabots refuse to invite you?”

He took a cloth and began to wipe the salve off her hands. “I kept winning. Rather than treat me as a competitor, they were frightened of me.”

“Does this happen often?”

“It happens enough.” He tossed the towel on the tray and she pulled back her hand. He looked into her eyes. “It is difficult to earn money to eat when no one will let you do what you’re best at.”

Margery backed away from him. He gripped his hands together to keep from pulling her against his chest. He could almost taste victory and revenge—and he could almost taste the sweet saltiness of her skin against his tongue.

“I should go,” she said awkwardly, turning to straighten up the tray.

“But my legs are grievously wounded, mistress.”

She looked over her shoulder with skeptical amusement. “Then I shall leave the tray for you. Bring it down when you’re through.

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