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He chuckled humourless, while his attention caressed her from head to toe. “You have not given me an answer…” He paused, his stare lowering to her lips, that tingled. “ …to my proposition, I mean.”
He lowered his head closer to hers, their noses inches apart. The traitorous memories of the afternoon flooded back to undermine her. He deliberately kept their conversation on two levels for a reason he alone understood. “That deserves no comment.”
“If you say so, my lady.” He mimicked her remark from earlier.
“I do, Your Grace.”
Words silenced, they stood there, glares duelling, hers headstrong, his ferocious. The concept this man did not deserve any consideration for being a criminal did not help her because his eyes became greener with more than loathing. This made her breath short and uneasy. Suddenly, their bodies started talking a whole different language. Uncalled for, she lifted her mouth that unnecessary inch towards his and could feel his breath on her lips. A breath that quickened, at the same time her insides pulled her to him, though she did not move. His nostrils flared as she found it impossible to forget that overheated kiss.
She must find the strength to break this spell… no, curse. It could only be a curse to be this drawn to a traitor. With titanic effort, she filled her lungs with cool air.
Even not willing to cede ground, she found the will to step back, for his proximity was meddling with her senses. “If you will excuse me.” She curtsied in a derogatory manner and left the pretty chapel.
Reaching her chambers, she closed the door and leaned on it, head bent back, breathing with difficulty due to her boiling anger. At him, for his crude words; and at herself for feeling as she did.
* * *
“Report.” Romulus ordered the man under Miller, appointed to follow the countess discretely, as he came in the solar.
He spent a hell of a night, plagued by her lures and the suspicions of her motifs. He tossed and turned, and wanted, and craved, thoughts jumbled. Morning found him turned inside out with sexual frustration and vexation.
They did not meet at dinner, as they avoided one another with careful distance and he broke his fast all too early, due to his non-existent sleep. Which meant he had not encountered her then either.
“The lady is in the armoury, Your Grace.”
“Doing what?”
The man lowered his head. “I could not tell, Your Grace.”
Romulus’ brows pleated hal
f irritated, half quizzical. “How is that?” The sole thing she might do there was to examine the weaponry.
“The lady is in breeches, on the wrestling ring, performing some-“ he cleared his throat.
“Go on.” Impatience on his tone.
His deferential attention back to the Duke, he took courage. “Performing some movements, or training, my lord.”
That other men may have seen her tightly belted breeches and the flare of her tempting hips made him see red. He preferred to burn in Hades rather than let others realise it though.
His stance on neutral, he stood. “Alright, Clark. You take a pause. I will see to the matter in hand.”
“Very well, Your Grace.” He bowed relieved and left.
As soon the man left, Romulus headed to the armoury. Coming there, he stopped short. Bare feet, delectable, indecent shirt and breeches, her back to him, she concentrated in full on a series of movements unthinkably resembling wrestling. What the blazes did she do that for in her life? He slammed the door shut in a dry clap.
Startled, her head swivelled to him. Her midnight hair caught in a practical chignon, wisps falling to her face, the light from the windows beaming on her liquid eyes. She had to be the most majestic woman in the human race. He was in for another sleepless night, he guessed grim.
“You wrestle.” He emitted, unable to say anything else.
Her poor-man’s shirt had simple strings at the neck, as buttons were too expensive for working-class to afford. She wore no neck-cloth to go with it.
He was in hot water.
“Yes.” Her skin shone with a sheen of sweat and he imagined rubbing his face to hers to smell her. “Though I am not very good at it.” She interrupted his voyeur reverie.
“What for?” He uttered.
