He had never given a woman a gift
before and he had felt apprehensive when giving it to her, but her look of
delight had brought a warmth into his heart that he had never experienced
before. He had only intended to get her something simple and warm but the gown
had reminded him of Annabel, gold and sparkling. It had cost him plenty of
coin, mayhap more than it was really worth, but he knew if he had the chance he
would happily spend his entire fortune on pretty gowns if it garnered the same
reaction.
But it wouldn’t be
up to him. Nicholas had to remind himself of that. He was to protect her,
naught more.
“Nicholas?”
Annabel’s voice beckoned to him, curling around his heart.
He took a deep
breath, sucking in the cool, crisp air, hoping it would provide him with the
necessary courage to face her. Each moment in her presence was making it harder
and harder to fight the sweet temptation of her beguiling kisses. His strength
to resist was steadily waning, but he knew he had to be strong. It was not
intended for someone like him to receive the honour of her affections. They
were undoubtedly misplaced and she would realise that if she understood his
true nature. But he could not reveal it to her, for she would surely send him
away and then how would he fulfil his duty to protect her?
Turning around, he
dipped his head to enter through the small doorway of the hut. Though it was
dark, Annabel seemed to shine through the gloom, all available light glinting
off her flaxen hair and golden gown. As she heard his footfalls, she turned her
head, looking at him over her shoulder.
“Will you help me
with the laces?”
As if he could say
nay. “Aye.”
Moving to her side,
she lifted her arm as he twisted the laces up her side with trembling hands.
Annabel watched him as he did so, her bright eyes never leaving his face.
“Stop.” she said
softly.
He halted, his jaw
ticking as he clenched it. Unable to meet her doe-eyed gaze, he stared at the
ties in his hands. Annabel twisted
around to face him and he let the laces fall from his grasp. Her hand reached
up and grazed across his jaw, drawing his eyes to hers. The milky expanse of
one shoulder was just visible and his gaze darted down, drawn to the enchanting
sight of bare skin.
Nicholas’ hand shot
out before he had even realised was he was doing and it hovered above her
shoulder, itching to touch it. The heat of her skin seemed to penetrate the gap
and his hand shook with restraint.
“Am I so repellent
that you cannot even touch me?”
He looked at her in
surprise and noticed a hint of vulnerability dancing in her expression. “God,
nay,” he rasped.
His hand closed the
gap in a sudden rush of movement, pulling a gasp from her while he groaned at
the feel of soft flesh under his hand.
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