Page 19 of Never Tempt a Widow

“You’re always cold. There’s nothing else to put on.”

Silence. Then he felt the mattress dip, and her knee met the back of his. His eyes flicked open. This was unprecedented!

The heat of her belly and thighs pressed against his behind, and he could feel the soft pressure of her breasts against his back. He scarcely dared breathe, frozen into stillness like a hunter stalking a nervous doe.

When her hand stole over his ribs and pressed against his chest, he released a breath. She was anchored to him now—a victory he could exploit at his leisure.

“You don’t feel cold.” The heat of her was soaking through their nightclothes.

“Oh, but I am.” She shuddered, and her teeth chattered.

“If I roll over and take you in my arms, I could rub your back for you.” The idea sent a lurch of excitement directly to his loins.

He felt the nod of her head. Exulting, he rolled over and pulled her against him, spreading a hand over the delicate bones of her spine, rubbing and chafing her back. Such a delicious armful, just as he’d dreamt she’d be. No—better. He sighed against her cheek, wishing he could remove her matronly cap and bury his face in her hair.

She quivered again, and he brought her more tightly against his chest. With every fibre of his being, he fought against arousal. She’d shy away—she’d hate him and think him no better than any other man, a man unable to control himself.

She nestled under his chin, her arms clasped around his waist, and he rubbed her back more vigorously, desperately trying to ignore the feel of her breasts against his chest.

Any moment now, Edgar would wake up and spoil it all. Or Rowland’s neglected male member would rise up and frighten his captive doe away. He gritted his teeth, and eventually, calm stole over him—the danger had passed. He felt relaxed and ridiculously happy, and Fina was warm, still, and breathing naturally, her teeth no longer chattering.

If Edgar had woken in the night, Rowland must have slept through it, for when he opened his eyes, it was to see grey daylight penetrating the gaps between the shutters.

Fina was no longer curled against him but had rolled away onto her side.

He touched her shoulder. “Fina? Are you awake?”

There was no response. He shook her gently. Edgar would be calling for his morning feed, and it would be better if she were up and about.

Still nothing. Concern gripped him, so he reached around and touched her forehead, then recoiled in shock.

She was burning up.