recognized that all of the things her body had felt in what she’d thought to be a dream had also been arousal. None of that made any sense considering she and Sullivan didn’t even like each other.
His gaze fell to his tented blanket and he dropped his hands in an attempt to cover himself. “It is an involuntary bodily reaction that sometimes occurs during sleep.” He swallowed, then shook his head. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Which was his way of telling her that he wasn’t attracted to her. His admission stung, despite the fact that she certainly didn’t want him to want her. Just as she didn’t want him in any form or fashion. She frowned.
“Are our clothes dry?”
He turned away and walked over to check the chairs in front of the fire.
She tried not to notice the way the muscles in his bare back moved and flexed as he picked up their clothing. He turned back and walked over to her holding out her dress.
“It’s mostly dry.”
She nodded, again trying to ignore his physique. He clearly took care of his body, regardless of his slothful nature. His broad shoulders were rounded with firm muscles that led into the high sinews of his chest, down to the six square bulges stacked on top of one another that surrounded his taut navel. All ending in a V that pointed down to that bulge he hid. Good gracious, he was a perfect specimen.
Her breathing became shallow and her skin felt warm. But this was Sullivan. She loathed him. Didn’t she?
Could she still hate him, though? After everything that had transpired between them? After he had rescued her today and—dare she even think it?—been kind to her? Was it possible she’d been wrong about him all these years?
After all, he’d never shared her secret profession of love. He’d promised to never tell anyone about her fear of storms. And he’d held her all night long, and she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that she had slept better last night than she had any other time in her memory. She’d felt safe and protected. Cherished.
That was a fabrication of her own imagining, though. He didn’t cherish her. He didn’t even like her. Surely, he was merely being kind and gentlemanly. The idea that she might have been wrong about him all this time was disconcerting, but she wasn’t too proud to admit that she might have been mistaken.
She could not begrudge him that.
She took her clothes. “Thank you, Sullivan.” She met his gaze and swallowed her pride. He deserved her gratitude. “For everything last night. You didn’t have to do any of this, and I realize it probably doesn’t change anything between us, but I wanted you to know I appreciate it.”
He gave her a weak smile and nodded. “You’re welcome.” Then he turned away from her again to retrieve the dressing screen. Once the screen was in place, he instructed her to get dressed. She could hear his movements and realized he, too, was putting on his clothes.
An hour later, she was settled into his carriage and he was riding beside it on his steed. Evidently, he’d endured enough of her company and could tolerate no more alone time with her.
Chapter Three
Upon returning to London and depositing Tilly safely home, Sullivan felt strangely disconcerted. Because of their family connections and intertwined social circles, avoiding Tilly was an impossibility. Despite that, he’d always managed to ignore the strange attraction he felt for her. Her obvious hatred of him made that task somewhat easier. The woman was a shrew and a harpy. To him at least.
However, last night, something had shifted in their relationship. There’d been moments when she had seemed to…well, she still didn’t enjoy his company. But perhaps she hated him less. And if that didn’t complicate things enough, he had now—for all intents and purposes—seen her naked. He had slept with her in his arms. She had put her hand on his cock.
Something he was unlikely to ever forget and which made his attraction to her all the stronger, even though he could never—and would never—act on said attraction.
Given the dismal state of the way his life had been going the last few days, Sullivan decided to complete a task he’d been putting off for far too long. He made his way to see an old friend. He looked up at the red-brick building at 26 Jewry, the headquarters of the City of London police. He quickly made his way inside