Fleeting disappointment shadowed her features. Strange how even with her injuries, her face was so expressive. She raised her chin as if girding herself to face a challenge.
“As you will,” she said quietly.
Akash carried Charis up the stairs with an impersonal aplomb that saved her any embarrassment. She couldn’t imagine lying in Sir Gideon’s arms with quite this coolness. The thought of Gideon holding her close to his broad chest brought a blush to her cheeks, and she bent her head to hide the flood of color.
What was this strange attraction she felt toward Sir Gideon? His physical presence filled her mind in a way she’d never before experienced.
It was astonishing how he occupied her attention, attention that should be devoted purely to escape and her safety over the next three weeks. From the first moment she’d seen him, he’d become the lodestone for every thought, every feeling. With each moment that passed, her obsession grew. Was it just because he’d rescued her from discovery and disaster? Or was this turbulent feeling something else entirely?
Thank goodness her reckless heart had settled by the time Akash placed her on her feet in the large private room Sir Gideon had requested upon their arrival. Then her pulse set off on its wild jig again as the object of her ridiculous fantasy strode in behind them. She fought to suppress her surprising, unwelcome reaction, but nothing stemmed her tingling awareness of him as he crossed toward the fire.
Once they’d sent Tulliver to order a substantial breakfast, Akash turned to Charis with what she already recognized as his characteristic seriousness. “Can I see your injuries, Miss Watson? There was only so much I could do in the dark.”
“Thank you. You’re very kind.” In truth, Charis felt much improved apart from a bitter taste lingering from the much-resented laudanum. The room’s warmth thawed some of the stiffness from her muscles.
Sir Gideon lounged on a carved wooden settle near the blazing grate. His dark eyes rested upon her with fierce concentration as she rose from her chair. On trembling legs, she moved to the center of the room, where Akash waited.
She unwrapped the thick shawl from her head and pulled the coat from her shoulders. She dropped both to the floor. It was absurd, but she felt as though she undressed for Sir Gideon’s pleasure. The wanton notion came from nowhere. It shocked her, but she couldn’t dismiss it.
Sir Gideon’s unwavering regard looked like desire. Which made no sense when she knew she was a veritable monster. But heat prickled her skin, and she licked suddenly dry lips.
His eyes flickered at the movement.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Something about Gideon’s unblinking stare pierced her to the bone. It was like he read her soul.
She shifted under Akash’s hands.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, frowning.
“No,” she murmured.
Akash’s medical skills must be why he assumed responsibility for her care. Whatever he’d put on her bruises last night had certainly helped. She was sore but nothing like yesterday.
Strange. This handsome, considerate gentleman touched her yet it meant nothing. Sir Gideon was halfway across the room, and he owned her every breath.
How had this happened? Her head whirled as she tried to make sense of her unprecedented reactions. In ballrooms and salons, she’d met so many men, attractive men, sophisticated men, attentive men. None had affected her like this taciturn, black-haired Adonis, with his glittering eyes and troubled air. The sensations stirring in her veins scared the life out of her.
As she answered Akash’s questions about her injuries, her gaze dropped to where Sir Gideon’s gloved hands encircled an untouched tankard of ale. Wicked excitement shivered through her as she imagined those hands touching her. So far, he hadn’t so much as taken her arm.
Avidly, she drank in his features. His face was grave and pure like the stone effigy of a crusading knight. His cheekbones and jaw were cut at perfect angles. His mouth was stern, firm, beautiful, but with a hint of softness in the curve of the lower lip. He looked like a carved saint until one met his burning eyes.
No sanctity there.
They were so dark, almost black. Intense. Glittering. Full of suppressed passion and pain.
And anger.
> Because someone had dared to hurt her.
Warmth seeped into a heart that had been cold for so long. She couldn’t entrust herself to these men. Too much hung upon her keeping her identity secret. She still had to escape.
But knowing that such a remarkable being as Sir Gideon Trevithick placed himself so firmly on her side bolstered courage that came shamefully close to faltering.
Gideon’s eyes met hers and flashed a warning. He surged to his feet and strode over to gaze out the window.
Helplessly, Charis studied his straight back in its perfectly fitted black jacket. He hadn’t had to say the words aloud. That last glare from his brilliant eyes had all but shouted keep out.
Akash manipulated her wrist. Its tenderness was a mere echo of last night’s agony. Even her ribs didn’t feel as though an elephant had trampled them anymore. She had a sudden memory of the dark stall where Gideon had found her. Without his help to escape and Akash’s treatment for her injuries, she’d be in a bad way indeed.