Her gaze drifted over the broad, bulky expanse of his bare chest. A set of symmetrical muscles sculpted his abdomen.
How did a man get muscles like that?
Selena would have appreciated the sight more if the entire room hadn’t reeked of spirits. The smell must be coming straight from him. She tore her gaze away from his body and strode to the windows, whipping open the drapes and allowing sunlight to pour into the chamber.
A groan came from the bed.
She glanced over her shoulder and snorted. She’d waited all morning for this stinky man to respond to the three missive she had sent until her patience had run out. Theodosia had sent the name and address of a person with knowledge oncurses and wrote that he expected their arrival today. And Selena wanted that note from the manufacturer. She’d thought perhaps Warrick had business which had prevented him from responding to her, but this...
Was this the scene you found when pulling back the proverbial curtain on a modern man?
How . . .eye-opening.
She could hardly blame him, she supposed. The earl had had a tough few weeks. Selena thought back to Warrick’s predicament with the candelabras. Just what did those women have against him? What must a man do for woman to attack him with a candelabra? But then, he seemed just as baffled.
She approached the bed, tilting her head to the side to examine a half-dead Warrick. She had teased him when she said he hadthatsort of face. He didn’t. Rogue locks fell over his brow, giving him a more rugged look than usual. Still handsome.
There must be more to his story than met the eye.
Lovers scorned or the consequence of the wagers on the pages they’d released?
I should have stuck it out and read through the betting book.
She stabbed the earl’s cheek with a finger. “Warrick, wake up.”
No response.
She tapped again, her finger grazing over light stubble that coated his face. Prickly. Her finger trailed upward to poke at his forehead.
Not as brainless as she’d first thought. Notthatbright either, though, or she would have that note from the manufacturer in her hands by now. But he had stood up for her last night, and that had cleansed a margin of displeasure she had felt toward him since he had become her watchdog. She hadfeltprotected for the first time.
She poked harder.
A hand snaked out to snatch her wrist and jerked. Selena catapulted forward, landing on a hard, solid chest. The same chest that was very, very naked. The smell of brandy ought to have burned her nostrils but was chased away by the shocking warmth of his skin.
“What are you doing?” Selena demanded.
“What are you doing?” He peered at her through small cracks in his eyelids. “Selena?”
“Are you expecting someone else?”
He wiped his eyes. “No. Is that really you?”
“If not me, then who else? My twin?”
“The dream you,” he said in a gruff voice, blinking a few times. “Always bloody dreaming.”
Her eyes widened. Always dreaming? What on earth didthatmean? Had he dreamed about her too? How shocking would that be, especially if his dreams were as wild as hers?
Her cheeks heated. “Are these the ramblings of a man half-asleep?”
“You aren’t real.”
“I assure you, I am very real.”
He stared at her. “If you are real, what are you doing in my bed?”
Good question. Selena stilled, her eyes widening as she considered the implications of his question. Wait a second. “If I am adream, why am I in yourarms?”
