Fear for him edged some of the awareness burning through her. She caught the boot in her hands. “Are you ready?”
“Aye,” he grunted, holding tightly to the chair once more.
She heaved and the second boot pulled free. Emma laid it beside its sister.
“My trousers,” he said, his fingers going to his falls. “Perhaps just a bit of help with them.”
She brushed his hands aside. “Let me.”
All too aware of the hardness rising beneath the placket, she plucked each button from its moorings. Beneath his trousers, the evidence of his desire rose, thick and prominent beneath his smallclothes. A new rush of longing hit her, centering in her core with an aching heaviness. She wanted to explore him. To brush her hand over his straining length.
But then she reminded herself sternly that he was injured, and she was meant to be aiding him rather than seducing him. Slowly, she pulled his trousers down his hips before guiding each leg free. Next, she rolled down his stockings until he stood before her in bare feet and his smalls only.
She rose, holding his stare, her heart pumping hard and fast as her body reacted to his. “Now you are ready for your bath.”
“Not yet.”