Page 56 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

She entered, closing the door behind her.

“I’m sorry, I’m not dressed appropriately, but it was hot in here and I wasn’t expecting visitors at this hour,” said Jonathon.

Raven’s eyes fastened to Jonathon’s arms. They were bare. His chest was bare as well. Only the leather work apron covered his top half. Thank goodness he wore trews or she thought she would have swooned. “You look... fine,” she said, once more letting her gaze travel down his body. She wanted to say he looked sexy, amazing, exciting, but she said none of those words.

“Brindy, good to see you, boy,” said Jonathon, hunkering down and petting the dog. Brindy got a little excited with the attention and knocked him to the ground. Jonathon fell back on the floor laughing.

“Brindy, nay. Bad boy,” Raven scolded, hurrying over to pull the dog off of him. “I’m sorry I brought my hound along, but it was late and dark and I didn’t want to go out unescorted.”

Brindy sat down and whimpered, his tail swishing back and forth over the floor.

“No problem. I think Brindy should have been made your personal guard instead of me.” Jonathon jumped up, patting the dog on the head. “I have something for you,” he said, walking over to a table. “I figured sooner or later you’d come to visit and I wanted to make sure you were satisfied.” With his back toward her, he picked up something that was wrapped in brown paper.

“Me?” asked Raven, wondering what he had, and how he planned on satisfying her. His comment only made her thoughts go wild.

“Nay, I was talking to Brindy,” said Jonathon, pulling out a big bone and handing it to the dog. The dog grabbed it and ran into the bedroom to chew on it.

“Oh,” she said, suddenly feeling very foolish.

“I saved that from the last time my mother made soup. I thought it was too good to throw away.”

“Of course,” she said, flashing him a smile.

“I do have something for you, too,” he told her, walking back over to the work area, picking up several pieces of armor.

“My armor!” she exclaimed, nearly running to him, so excited to see it. “It is finished?”

“Naaaay,” he said with a chuckle. “I only have the greaves and the plackart finished, and one of the vambraces. I have a long way to go yet.”

“The what?” she asked. “I’m sorry, but I’m not really knowledgeable about the names of the different pieces of armor.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I sometimes take it for granted that everyone knows what I’m talking about.” He picked up a piece that looked like it was to be worn on the leg. “The greaves protect your shins, and the vambraces, your forearms.”

“And the plackart? Isn’t that like a breastplate?” she asked.

“Nay, I haven’t made the breastplate yet. I need to take another measurement for that before I do.”

“Y-you do?” Her heart picked up a beat as she remembered the last time he measured her. It excited her to think he might do that again.

“The plackart is the part that protects your stomach, under the breastplate. Right here,” he said, putting his hand over her cloaked body, right below her breasts. “Since you are here, would you mind trying on the pieces I have to see if they fit properly?”

“Try them on?” Her mouth became so dry that she could barely swallow. All she was wearing under her cloak was her night rail. It was thin and a little sheer.

“Give me your leg. I am anxious to check the fit.” He bent down before her with his naked chest and back so close to her that she could reach out and touch him. She slowly stuck one leg out from under her cloak.

“I put straps and buckles on the back to hold them in place.” His fingers brushed against her bare leg, sending a delightful shiver coursing through her. “Ah, I see the fit is good, but I need to make the back straps shorter so it buckles tighter.”

“Yes. Tighter,” she repeated, looking down at his beautiful long hair tied with a band and trailing down his neck.

“Let’s try the vambrace next. I hope that fits better. Give me your arm.” He jumped up with another piece in his hand. He reached out and took her arm, almost causing her to lose her grip on her cloak since she’d only been holding it shut and it wasn’t fastened. He slapped the metal piece around her arm, buckling it quickly.

“Is it good?” she asked, feeling her heart beating in her ears.

“Yes, it is a tight fit. Just the way I like it.”

Why did that sound like he was talking about something else to her? The rousing thought lodged in her brain and she couldn’t shake it.

“Take off that cloak,” he commanded, removing the armpiece and picking up the next. “I want to see how the plackart fits now.”