The Gentleman’s Seduction by Lauren Smith

Author:Lauren Smith [Smith, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

11

Livvy curled into the warm, hard object that lay beside her. It was like sleeping close to a roaring fire while it snowed outside. She sighed and rubbed her cheek against whatever it was.

I must be dreaming. It felt simply wonderful. It slowly occurred to her that there was no way her father could have afforded extra logs for the fireplace in her room.

She jolted awake and stared at the still form lying in bed beside her. She wasn’t in her room at home. She was in Martin’s bedchamber.

“Martin?” she whispered tentatively, touching his back. He lay on his stomach, one arm underneath his pillow, his face turned her way. His face was pale, and a slight frown creased his brow, as if whatever he was dreaming bothered him. When had he come back? She had crawled into his bed around midnight and had been quite certain he would not return. Yet it was barely past seven if the clock on the fireplace mantel was correct.

She started to slide out of bed, but Martin rolled onto his side and curled an arm around her waist. She gasped as she saw a thick white bandage around his upper arm. That same arm now gripped her in the way a child would a beloved stuffed toy. And one of his eyes was puffy and dark. She winced. What had happened to him while he was away?

“Martin?” She spoke his name a little louder, and he shifted, muttering something about finding a good horse. He must be dreaming. Livvy carefully tried to pry herself away from him. The soft skin of his arm was tempered with the hard and heavy weight of his muscles. For a moment she found herself looking at those muscles in fascination. Then she chastised herself and focused on lifting his arm. Her attempts only made him curl tighter around her.

“Martin!” she growled.

“Hmm?” The drowsy murmur made her temper flare. She really needed to use a chamber pot soon. She pressed her palm tightly on the wrapped wound, knowing it would hurt, but she had to get his attention somehow.

Martin hissed and released her waist immediately, then rolled up into a sitting position, clutching his wounded arm to his chest.

“What the devil?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She pushed back the covers of his bed and tried to help him, but she didn’t know how.

He growled like an irritable badger and got out of bed. “It’s fine.” He turned his back on her as he stalked over to his washbasin and splashed his face with cold water. He scraped the cloth over his chin and cheeks, drying his skin.

“What happened to you?” She slipped out of the bed and came up behind him, trying not to let the sight of his muscled back distract her.

“I don’t wish to discuss it. What the devil are you doing in my room?” His cold tone made her step back. “A man could get the wrong idea about a woman in his bed.

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