The Lady Who Broke the Rules by Marguerite Kaye

Author:Marguerite Kaye [Kaye, Marguerite]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-12-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

‘We used to come here as children.’ Virgil started. Kate was standing in the clearing behind him. He hadn’t heard her approach. ‘It’s one of the few places at Castonbury out of Aunt Wilhelmina’s reach,’ she said. ‘There’s a box down by the beach with wood and kindling—will you help me fetch it?’

Virgil dragged the heavy chest through the undergrowth, and Kate opened the lid. She took out a quilt and handed another to him. ‘You look as if you need this. I’m used to it, but I expect you found the water cold. What are you doing here?’

‘I saw you dive in from the window of my bedchamber.’

‘Did you think I needed rescuing?’

‘Not once I saw you swimming. You’re very…lovely.’

He’d meant to say good or strong or even graceful, but the truth slipped out before he could stop it. The quilt was draped over her shoulders. She wore what looked like underwear, a short, sleeveless cotton chemise and a pair of knee-length drawers. The sodden material clung to her figure, revealing tantalising glimpses of the pink flesh beneath, hugging every contour, from the swell of her breasts, the flare of her hips, to the dark cluster of curls between her long legs. Her nipples were hard peaks, clearly visible. Long damp tendrils of her hair had escaped the bun on top of her head and stuck to her throat, her neck, her cheeks. Water dripped from her lashes. It dripped from the ends of the ribbons which tied her drawers at her knees and at her neckline. ‘Charybdis,’ Virgil said with a smile, ‘daughter of Poseidon.’

He still held the quilt folded in his hands. If he would wrap it around himself, then she wouldn’t have to look at him, Kate thought. Dripping wet. His skin dark, glistening through his shirt. Was it a shirt? It looked more like a nightshirt. She should be cold, but under her skin she felt unaccountably hot. She laughed nervously. ‘That’s not very flattering. Charybdis makes whirlpools to drown men at sea.’

‘I know, but she was once a nymph.’

‘So it’s a compliment?’ It was the swimming which made her sound so breathless. It must be the swimming which was making her shaky too. She’d overdone it. Was it the swimming which was making her mouth dry? It was definitely the cold which was making her nipples ache. Virgil looked—oh, heavens, there was no getting away from it—he looked magnificent.

‘I’ll light a fire.’ Kate hunkered down over the chest, fumbling for the kindling. ‘You’ll catch cold, else.’ It didn’t occur to her to suggest that Virgil would be better getting back to a warm bath and dry clothes.

‘Let me.’

He tended to the fire efficiently and quickly. Of long habit, Kate sank onto the sandy hollow and pulled her quilt around her as the flames took life. Virgil had abandoned his quilt. The ridges of his whip marks could clearly be seen through his shirt. They were vicious, long welts, some overlapping. More than one whipping or one particularly fierce event? He looked as if he’d been flayed.

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