He felt his body involuntarily relax.
The painkiller hadn’t started working until after Julia had fallen asleep. He could tell when she finally dropped off and the tenseness went out of her body, the weight of her settling against his side.
He very much enjoyed that feeling.
He awoke sometime in the night to feel that Julia had settled in quite well. The freezing cold hand she’d laid tentatively on his chest was now a warm arm that draped across his abdomen. Her face was snuggled deeper into his shoulder and she’d crooked her leg, the knee settled just under his groin, her calf falling between his legs. Her body was remarkably warm in sleep and he found her heat strangely comforting.
Hearing the shower stop, he tested his shoulder cautiously and winced at the pain. He should get up and leave but none of the staff knew he was home and he didn’t relish exiting Julia’s room first thing in the morning, bare-chested and wrapped in bandages.
She strode into the room wearing her long, lilac cashmere robe and wrapped around her hair was a towel that had obviously been confiscated from another bathroom. Douglas’s mother was particular about the colour coordination of towels and Julia had used all of hers on him last night.
She walked straight to the desk, the front of the robe parting to accommodate her stride showing a shapely length of leg. She hadn’t noticed he was awake so he took advantage of this opportunity to observe her.
Douglas watched as she stood by the desk and reached down. He could tell by her movements that she was using the touchpad on her laptop and was clicking through something. She stopped, leaned over the screen to have a better look and smiled softly. He felt his chest tighten at the smile, an instantaneous reaction the cause of which he felt it best to ignore.
One of the many reactions he’d been having to Julia lately that he felt it best to ignore.
She sat down to give whatever it was her attention, crossing her legs to the side of the desk and the robe fell away, exposing them fully to his gaze. Her fingers flew over the keyboard with astonishing speed but before she was finished the handle on the door rattled. He watched her head shoot up then she exited the chair and flew across the room.
She caught the door as it was opening and whispered, “Ronnie…”
Douglas heard his maid murmuring and Julia responded quietly, “I got up a little late… didn’t get a shower before breakfast. I’m sorry, can you come back later? I’ll find you, okay?”
He heard the affirmative noise from Veronika, Julia closed the door and turned toward the bed. He saw her head peeping around the draperies and closed his eyes, feigning sleep. When he heard her move off, he opened them again.
He watched her stroll down the hall of her dressing room. She sorted through some drawers and he saw her pull out a wisp of white.
This was when any chivalrous man would either close his eyes or let her know he was awake.
Douglas, however, was not the kind of man to let chivalry stand in the way of seizing an opportunity.
She bent down to step into her underwear, her back to him, the robe hiding anything but a brief flash of leg, which, Douglas thought, was damned disappointing.
At that point, he found himself tiring of the game and wanting her attention instead. He rolled cautiously out of bed, walked silently across the room and stood in the doorway to her dressing room, leaning his good shoulder against the door jam.
“Good morning, Julia.”
She let out a small, stifled scream and whirled around, her hand flying to the opening of her robe.
“You’re awake,” she noted the obvious.
He crossed his arms on his chest and winced. She noticed his grimace and came forward.
“How are you feeling?” she asked gently, her eyes were on his bandages.
How was he feeling?
That was an excellent question.
His shoulder was burning with pain but that he could handle.
His feelings about last night were quite a bit different.
She’d been extraordinary. Throughout her performance he didn’t know whether to order Nick from the room and throw her on the bed or strangle her.
In his life, only one woman had ever even attempted to care for him and that woman was his sister. His mother had never bothered. He’d never had another woman who cared for anything other than his money, his title, the enjoyment he could give them in bed or the number of photographs she could appear in at his side.
While they were growing up, Tamsin had been just like an angry lioness protecting her cub, albeit she was a powerless one.