Chapter 3 #2
Inside, her stomach lurched as a sideways glance showed Theo’s face still dark with anger at her ruthless dismissal, along with another emotion she couldn’t identify.
Remorse swept through her, and Genevieve swallowed hard.
What in heaven’s name had possessed her to lose control of her senses and seduce the man into bedding her?
Theo turned away from her and began to dress in stilted movements.
It was clear her words had injured him, and regret tugged at her.
Worse, she didn’t like the way Theo’s reaction to her blistering remarks made her feel.
It wasn’t like her to be cruel, and her words had been callous and insulting.
Even more disturbing was the realization she cared about Theo’s opinion of her, perhaps more than she wanted to.
Her movements as stiff and mechanical as his, Genevieve picked her skirt up off the floor. Pain made her inhale a sharp breath as her gash protested the action. As she straightened, something wet brushed across her breast, and she stiffened at Theo’s harsh intake of air.
“You’re bleeding,” he said in a guttural tone.
Genevieve glanced down at her cut to see a slow rivulet of blood trickling down toward her nipple.
The neat stitches Wills had made to mend the gash had given way to the pressure of the skin expanding and pulling on the dark thread.
Whether the damage was the result of her ride out to the croft, their frenetic lovemaking or a combination, she needed to stop the bleeding.
Grimacing, she glanced around for something to staunch the slight flow. The only thing she saw was the bandages Theo had removed earlier. She looked down for her chemise, realizing she’d been about to put her skirt on before her undergarment.
Angry with herself for being so discombobulated, the skirt slipped from her hands and drifted down to her feet as she bent over to reach for her chemise on the floor.
The movement made her wince with pain at the sharp tug against her wound.
Ignoring her discomfort, she snatched the chemise up to examine it for the cleanest section she could find.
Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she jerked her head up to stare into Theo’s harsh expression. With a tug of suppressed violence, he forcibly pulled her toward the table. Wood screeched a protest against stone as he dragged a chair out from under the furniture .
“Sit,” he growled. Irritated by his autocratic manner, she didn’t move and tilted her chin up in defiance. Theo’s blue-eyed gaze darkened at her rebellious attitude, and he bent over her until their noses were almost touching. “It wasn’t a request, Genevieve. It was an order. Now, sit down.”
The dark and dangerous glint in his eyes made Genevieve sink into the chair, while still eyeing him with mutinous anger.
The man was acting as if he were her master, and she’d be damned if she’d let that happen.
He caught her by the shoulders, and with gentle firmness, twisted her to face him.
Instinctively, Genevieve knew not to rebel against his actions.
Theo peered at her injury, and his mouth tightened with an indefinable emotion she couldn’t define.
“You’ve managed to loosen one of the sutures,” he muttered.
Theo produced a clean handkerchief and folded it into a makeshift bandage.
With a gentleness that belied his obvious anger, he laid the cloth over her stitches with a sharp command for her to hold it in place.
Theo then retrieved the long strip of linen draped over the back of the chair and began to dress her wound.
A small shudder rippled through Genevieve as she sat frozen in the chair. Aside from the hose that were tied off just below each thigh with a dainty strip of ribbon and her bloomers, she was naked.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Theo work.
It had been years since she’d felt so exposed.
Worst of all, she didn’t like the way her body was reacting to him.
Spice, leather, and pine scents wafted beneath her nose to create a heady aroma, and she fought the need to inhale a deep breath of his intoxicating, male scent.
The effect he was having on her senses was alarming.
Her gaze swept across his handsome features, before shifting her attention to the beautiful masculine fingers wrapping the linen bandage under her arm and over her shoulder.
They didn’t falter in their movement, and the memory of him cupping her breasts made her tremble.
Theo froze, his dark blue gaze meeting hers.
“Am I hurting you?”
When had his voice become such a husky, seductive sound?
She swallowed hard and shook her head, unable to speak.
Genevieve turned her head away and focused her attention on the wall of the croft.
Anywhere to avoid staring into those intense blue eyes.
Theo didn’t move for a moment, and she wondered if he was contemplating probing further.
When he resumed bandaging her wound in silence, she relaxed a small amount.
It had been a long time since she’d felt this vulnerable, and she didn’t like the sensation.
Not even the night of Peter’s death had she felt this defenseless.
One hand crumpling her chemise in a tight fist, she waited stoically for Theo to finish.
As he tucked the tail end of the bandage into place, his fingers brushed over her fist, and she jumped violently.
Genevieve darted a look in his direction, and she saw a troubled frown on his face as he told her to stand up.
His touch gentle, Theo pulled the chemise free of her deathlike grip.
Without a word, he held the undergarment out in front of her and quietly ordered her to slide her arms through the holes.
She hesitated for a brief second, then did as he commanded and ducked her head so he could slide the chemise onto her body without the need to lift her arms too high.