Enchanted by Your Kisses (19 page)

He didn't say anything.

"An extra coat for yourself?" One she could borrow?

Silence again.

"Perhaps some blankets?"

"When we get inside."

Well, at least there was that. And a fire. A nice, warm fire.

They entered the house,
Trevain
pausing by the front door as he retrieved something. A bag of supplies, she noticed. One she hadn't seen before. He didn't even glance at her as he clutched the burlap bag in one hand, then grabbed her by the arm again, leading her through the front door and to the right. The discarded lantern sat near a doorway, the sudden light making her squint and blink away spots.
Trevain
let her go, stepping behind her to nudge her in the back toward a nearby room.

It was a disaster, not that Ariel had expected it to look different from the rest of the house. Gloomy, dust-covered windows allowed muted moonlight to filter through one side. Bare walls that bore the outline of long-gone portraits surrounded the other three sides. No furniture looked to be in sight.
Spiderwebs
hung from a wood and iron chandelier with curved arms reaching up. Ariel wondered if it was a good or a bad thing that she couldn't see the webs' inhabitants creeping about. Probably a bad thing.

"Here."

She turned toward him, just in time to be hit full in the face by something, a something she couldn't catch with her hands as they were tied behind her back.

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling sorely vexed by his oversight.

He grumbled something under his breath, bent down to retrieve the blanket he'd tossed at her and said, "Turn."

She turned. And all he did was touch her with his fingers. Jolts leaped up and down her arms, the same kind of static that danced through her veins during a particularly wild storm. She in-haled sharply. Gracious heaven above, she did still feel desire for him. What a
nodcock
. Obviously she enjoyed the company of men who threw her over. She sighed in impatience with herself.

Nathan must have thought her sigh a gasp of pain, for he gentled his touch, then murmured soothingly, the words wafting across her ear and then her cheek. His breath was sweet, she realized. As if he'd just nibbled a piece of fruit.

A final jerk on the ropes, and first one hand sprang free, then the other. He turned her toward him, rubbing her wrists.

She really wished he wouldn't do that.

She really, really wished it.

But God had obviously decided she'd sinned one too many times, because Nathan kept touching her. Short of jerking her arms away, she was helpless to move. She'd be damned if she'd let him see how much his touch still affected her.

"Might we start a fire?" she asked on a wheeze, hoping and praying he would take the hint and let her go.

Silver eyes met her own, his face less ominous-looking of a sudden. "If I start a fire, it might alert the locals to our presence."

"And that would be bad?"

He didn't say anything, not that she'd expected him to. Nathan
Trevain
had grown good at conveying his thoughts with a single look in the past few hours. There was his you-are-nothing-but-a-bloody-blueblood look. And his be-quiet-or-I-shall-gag-you look. Right now he gave her a I-don't-care-if-your-
arse
-freezes-to-he-castle-walls look. She sighed, her breath a stream of white vapor. To think, she'd actually thought him her friend once upon a time, but she should have known once upon a times only existed in fairy tales.

Just then a giant shiver racked her body.

"Why are you shaking?"

"Because I'm bloody cold," she answered.

He frowned.

"Truly, Mr.
Trevain
, I do believe I shall need a fire."

"No fire."

"Then I will need to remove this gown."

"Fine," he snapped.

She stiffened, another chill sending her muscles into spasms. "What do you mean, fine?"

"Remove your dress."

Her eyes must have bulged. "I beg your pardon?"

He gave her a look of impatience. "You were the one who suggested it. Since you seem to be so thin-blooded, it looks to be a fine suggestion."

Hoist with her own
petar
. But truly, she thought, as another chill racked her body, if she didn't do something fast, she would indeed freeze to death.

"Very well, turn around, and I will disrobe."

He gave her a look, one meant to question her integrity. "You will not try to escape if I turn my back?"

"If I try and escape, you will find my dead blue body on the road in the morning."

For an instant, such a brief instant that she thought she might have imagined it, a flash of amusement shone in his eyes. But of course, that couldn't be. Besides, he had turned around before she could be sure.

"I'll need your help with the lacings beforehand."

He turned back, and now his eyes had a very definite glimmer of impatience in them. "Give me your back."

She did as asked, approaching such a state of discomfort that she would have shown him her legs if it meant getting out of the sodden dress. The chills came with more frequency now, so severe she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

"Please
hu
-hurry," she stuttered.

His hands felt hot against her neck, and how that could be when he was just as wet as she was she had no idea, but just then she was tempted to press those hands all over her freezing-cold body.

"You're trembling all over."

"I
kn
-know," she answered.

She felt his hands move lower, felt the dress begin to part.

"Here," he said, turning.

It was a sign of how cold she felt that she didn't even flinch when she felt his heated hands at the neck of her gown. Nor did she move when he pulled it off her shoulders. She closed her eyes. She was cold. So cold.

He jerked the dress down.

Her eyes sprang open. "What are you doing?"

"Taking your dress off."

"I can do it."

"Can you?"

She nodded, but Nathan noted her body shook so much, he doubted she even realized how cold she'd become. But he'd not lived with winter snows for most of his life not to know the signs of someone who had become too cold for her own good. How she had done it so quickly he had no idea.

"Remove your petticoat. And your hoops," he ordered.

"B-but—"

"Do it."

He turned his back again, hearing the rustle of the sodden fabric. Damnation, but women wore a lot of clothes.

"Are you done?"

"Y-yes," she said in a small voice.

He turned back to her. She stood there shivering in nothing but her chemise and corset, her arms crossed in front of her as if he had magic vision that could see through fabric. Frankly, she shouldn't have been concerned about his seeing through the fabric; she should have worried that he could see every delectable contour of her body—which he could.

He gritted his teeth, telling himself he didn't care that he could see the outline of her flesh. She was nothing to him. Nothing.

But he still looked away as he removed his coat.

"
Wh
—what are you d—doing?"

"I'm going to warm you."

She tried to move back, but she was so cold her legs buckled. Nathan caught her just before she fell, tugging her up against him. Her body felt like a wall of snow.
Demme
, but her temperature had dropped quickly.

"Here," he said, pulling her to a wall. If they leaned up against it, they could use it to keep their backs from getting chilled by the musty breeze that blew through the room. She could hardly move now, so he scooped her up in his arms. She didn't even protest. Her wet hair slapped against his arm, and even the silky strands felt cold.

Setting her down gently, he then went for the blankets. She'd closed her eyes again, her alabaster skin pale as parchment. Bending down, he placed one blanket around her, then used the other to dry her hair. Her eyes didn't open. That concerned him.

"Ariel."

They still didn't open.

"Ariel," he repeated, shaking her.

"What?" she cried, eyes opening, those golden orbs glowing with irritation.

He told himself he felt relief because she hadn't fallen into a cold sleep, not because of any concern. He wouldn't feel concern for a woman who'd deceived him as she had.

Ah, but you deceived her too.

And what did that matter? he argued. He, at least, did so for his brother. She had no reason other than that she had a treacherous heart, like the rest of her sex. Bloody hell, that he'd begun to like her still rankled like a sore thumb.

"I merely wanted to insure that you had not expired," he said, when she continued to glare up at him.

"I assure you, s-sir, had I expired, I w-would be haunting your from the g-grave by now."

He ignored the threat. The chit was too cold for her own good. "Here," he said, jerking the blanket off her.

She looked about to protest, but then her eyes widened when he plopped down next to her, covering them both with the blanket, but not before he pulled her into his arms. Damnation, but the wall behind them was cold, too. He shoved his arm between her back and the wood paneling.

Foolish woman. She could die and ruin his whole kidnapping.

Ah, but she feels good.

So would opium, if you took too much of it, and it could kill you, too.

But Ariel wouldn't kill him. She didn't have a killer's heart. Just a treacherous one, and a damn delectable body, one he found hard not to think about as he snuggled her next to his own.

"You're so w-warm," she murmured.

"Yes, and you are so cold," he answered.

She nodded, but a few minutes later she wasn't shivering so violently. He pulled her closer still, the better to warm her, he told himself. She didn't protest, even slipped a hand between his arm and his side. Hell's bells. Any ardor he might have felt—and he told himself he didn't feel any—would have died an icy death at the feel of that cold, cold limb squeezed between his flesh.

Slowly, too slowly for Nathan's peace of mind, she stopped shivering. The trouble was he'd begun to feel things, too. Like her thigh pressed against his own. Or her breath as it warmed the skin of his neck. Against his better judgment, against all damnable reason, he felt his body begin to stir. He closed his eyes, on the verge of muttering a frustrated oath. How the hell could he desire her after all she'd done?

He was on the verge of getting up angrily when she said, "Nathan?"

"Yes," he answered, having to grit out the word.

"How did your face get that way?"

He jerked away from her as if her body had turned to ice. Her eyes snapped open. The look on her face was one of surprise.