The feel of his rougher palm against her softer one, made tendrils of pleasure dance through her arm, but she ignored them as she led him down the stairs to the kitchen below.
Working quickly, she put water on the stove to heat and got out fresh rags. Once the water heated, she began cleaning the wounds. The cut above his eye still bled, and she gently dabbed at the wound. Rinsing the cloth, she worked down his face, then his neck. “Take off your shirt,” she demanded. She needed to see what had happened to his body.
He complied without a word, gingerly pulling the fabric over his head, wincing as his arm stretched up.
She gasped. Not because of the bruises blooming on his flesh but because he was so…stunning. Hard muscles rippled in waves down his chest, tapering into a narrow waist. A smattering of hair sprinkled across his pectorals and she had the urge to run her hand through it. Feel its texture against her palm. She pressed her hands to her breastbone to keep her heart from beating out of her chest.
Her breath released in short gasps and her body ached with something she couldn’t name as she reached for the rag again and began to cleanse his torso. Even through the cloth, she could feel the dips and ripples of his muscles and her head dipped lower. She knew she was intimately close, but she wanted to feel him, smell him. Penny would like him to wrap his arm about her waist and draw her near.
“Penny,” he growled, low and deep. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” She swallowed as she answered. “About what?” The inappropriate way I am touching you or the impure thoughts I am having about my skin sliding against yours? Her skin flushed at the very idea.
“About this house.”
Oh. That. Disappointment slid down her spine. “There isn’t much to say. What I can sell it for will not buy me much of anything.”
He brought his hand to her waist and, Lord help her, if he didn’t pull her closer. Just as she’d imagined. Her entire body heated to be so near to his. “There is always a solution.”
She nodded, dropping the cloth in the bowl and spreading her hands out on his shoulders. They were broad and so strong. Her fingers dug into the flesh. Just a bit. Touching him like this felt like he was an anchor in a storm. She’d like to press her cheek onto his perfectly trimmed hair. “Yes. That’s why I agreed to dinner tonight. Surely, I can find some other benefactors.”
His chest rumbled. Had she heard it or felt it? Penny wasn’t certain, though it didn’t matter. It caused her own insides to flit about like butterflies.
“We have an appointment tomorrow. Even though I’ve delivered your funds, we’ll keep it. I’ll send my driver to fetch you and my groundskeeper is going to stay here while you’re gone. He can work on the place and keep an eye on things while you’re away.”
She shook her head. “That’s too much. I can’t—”
“I insist,” he said, then stood. “I’ll be back to pick you up at seven this evening. Everything you’ll need is in the box.”
They were still close, her hands on his shoulders, and his chest slid up her torso. She gasped, her nipples tightening as her fingers dug in even deeper to his skin. Logan’s hand slid around her waist so that her stomach pressed to his. An ache formed deep inside, throbbing between her legs.
Penny had never imagined that a man’s touch would be so…exciting. He didn’t seem like marble now. He was a flesh and blood man radiating heat and virility.
Her chin notched up to look at him and he met her gaze, his golde
n eyes crinkled in thought. “Should Clarissa and the children spend the night at my home?” he asked.
She shook her head. An entire night that close to this man? She couldn’t possibly. Because he was wiping her mind of all her reasonable and sensible thoughts. “The lock is excellent.”
He gave a single nod even as he squeezed her waist again and then let her go. “I shall see you at seven then.”
The cold air that hit her skin made a shiver of disappointment curl her shoulders in. His touch had been like a dream.
His hands had been large and strong and their bodies fit together and… “Seven,” she repeated as he shrugged back into his shirt.
Then he was gone. With a sigh, she started to clean up the kitchen. It had to be four in the afternoon already. She’d need every second she had left to get ready for this evening.
Chapter Five
For the second day in a row, Logan arrived home to a visitor.
Not his idea of fun.
Well, that wasn’t true. Penny had turned out to be a delightful guest, but she was an anomaly. And the carriage parked outside told him that a far different guest awaited him inside.
The Duke of Darlington.
Logan knew he looked awful. His shirt had been torn, his face beaten, and he hadn’t bothered to retie his cravat.