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Damn.
She was on Rafe’s lap. Her cheek snuggled in the dip between his thighs, the back of her head touching…
She swallowed a gasp, stilling. The back of her head was fully against his member. His very hard, twitching member.
The pup whimpered.
Her eyes shifted downward, but she kept her head very, very still. The dog looked to her, its big dark eyes begging. He had to take care of business, yes, she understood.
How had she ended up here?
That’s right. Her feet. Her cold, cold feet that Rafe had rubbed back to life and were now tucked under a coverlet. She wiggled her toes. Hurrah! They felt normal.
But then she had fallen asleep? In his lap?
No, on his shoulder. A vague memory tinged the edge of her mind of leaning back into him, into his warmth, because that had seemed like a fine idea last night.
But now. Now she had slithered down his body to set her head right next to his shaft. No wonder he was hard. Or maybe he was always like that in sleep? Was that how men slept? With their members hard and straining throughout the night? Or maybe she’d been shifting her head back and forth and had caused it?
The pup twisted in a circle, looking to come up to her face.
Her eyes went wide and her body tensed, her fingers going to the back of the dog to stop him from crawling up onto Rafe’s leg. That wouldn’t do, waking him up.
Her stomach muscles straining as she kept her body as still as possible, she lifted her head off of his lap and straightened on the bed.
Only then did she look back at him.
Asleep.
His hands clasped together over his lower chest. His back against the wall. Still upright. His chest lifting and falling in a slow rhythm.
This was the second time she’d found him upright for the whole night. How did he sleep like that?
The pup nudged into her hand in earnest. She nodded at it, silent. Time to get it outside.
Spying her skirt by the fireplace, she eased herself gently from the bed and stepped over and grabbed it, then moved back to the bed. Best to not take the chance of setting the dog on the floor. Hell would come thundering down if Rafe woke up and stepped down only to slip on dog piss or feces.
One quick touch on the dog’s head and she yanked up her skirt, getting two of the three buttons in place. Her cloak was still over her shoulders so she picked up the dog from the bed and tucked him under her arm.
Finding her boots by the fireplace, she frowned—with the leather stiff after being soaked, it would be hard to get them on while juggling the dog. Rafe’s boots sat by the bed and she went over to them, lifting each foot high and stepping into them with ease. They were made for a man his size and the leather swung wide around her calves. Far too big, but it would suffice for a quick trip outside.
Lifting onto her toes, she shuffled quietly across the floor and out into the hallway. Down the stairs she had a difficult time not letting the boots clunk loudly on each step, and she probably woke up half the inn.
At ground level, she looked around, spying a door close to the stairs. She hadn’t noticed her surroundings on the way in, just that there was a tavern in the room over, but she wasn’t sure if this was the main entrance of the inn. Opening the door, she peeked out. It led to the rear of the inn. Good enough.
Victoria stepped out into the path that had been worn down in the snow and walked several feet before setting the dog down on the ground. The puppy didn’t even bother to sniff, just lifted his leg and took care of business. For how long he urinated, it was admirable that he had waited and hadn’t done so in the bed.
Waiting for the pup, she bent over and tucked her left hand down along the inside of Rafe’s left boot, curious why something cold kept knocking against her calf. Her forefinger brushed against cold metal. A blade.
Sneaky. She pulled it from the sheath along the inside of the boot, looking at it.A viper curled along the silver hilt of it, a ruby for its eye.Tucking it back into the left boot, she fingered around the right boot. Another blade.
Her bottom lip jutted up as she stood. He was well armed. Not too many gentlemen carried the amount of steel on their bodies as he did, for she had also seen a blade secured under his coat. Of course, her Uncle Reiner and her father always seemed to have blades strapped to their bodies in some fashion. Her Aunt Sloane and her stepmother Jules, too, for that matter. Though theirs were usually strapped about their legs, well out of sight, but perfectly accessible with deep open pockets in their skirts.
So maybe not so unusual.
The pup started sniffing about, and giving him time, she clutched her arms together under the cloak and took in her surroundings. The sun had yet to rise, but the hazy light bleeding up into the sky from the east made it easy enough to see. The stables to the coaching inn sat just a short distance away. Two black coaches were lined up next to the barn. This inn sat a distance away from the village, and she could just make out the grouping of small buildings at the bottom of the rolling hill along the road. She didn’t recall if they had travelled through the village or had come from the opposite direction last night, she’d been that consumed by the cold ravaging her body.
For as exhausted as she’d been hours ago, she did feel better. Though she had to admit she’d been hoping before stepping outside that it was still in the middle of the night and she could sleep longer.
