She arched an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”
Damn his language, he thought. “What are you doing?”
She bent to pull the bedding straight and the nightgown drew tight over her hips. His body responded instantly. “I’m making my bed. And then, as the saying goes, I’m going to lie in it.”
“You’ll do no such thing!”
“This is my home, Mr. Rider, and I’ll sleep where I please.”
“You’ll freeze on that stone floor.”
She flipped back a quilt. “It’s not nearly as cold as it’s been the last two nights. I’ll be all right.”
“I won’t allow it.”
“Allow?” She gave him a cool look. “You forget yourself, sir.”
“I forget many things, but I do not forget my obligations as a gentleman,” he said grimly. He flipped back his bedclothes, all thought of seduction gone, and swung his legs over the side.
“What are you doing?”
“If you think I’m going to let a woman sleep on the cold, hard floor while I sleep in her bed, you’ve got another think coming.” He touched his injured ankle to the floor and winced.
“Stop! The doctor said if you tried to use that ankle, you might cripple yourself!”
“It’s entirely up to you,” he told her. “If you persist in this nonsense about sleeping on the floor, then I have no choice but to sleep there instead.” He made a move as if to stand.
“Stop!” She stared at him, frustrated.
He stared right back.
“You’re so stubborn!” she said at last.
He could smell capitulation. “Pot calling the kettle black.”
She clenched her hands. “I will be perfectly all right on the floor.”
“Then so will I. In the meantime, that stone floor is freezing your toes.”
The toes in question curled under his gaze and she stepped onto the rag rug nearby. “If they’re cold, it’s your fault for keeping me from my bed.”
“I’m not keeping you from your bed,” he said. He waved his hand. “Here it is, all toasty and warm, waiting for you.”
“You must know I can’t share a bed with you.”
“Why not? You have the last couple of nights, and emerged quite unharmed. In fact, I’d suggest that you slept the better for having me in the bed. You were certainly warmer.”
“How could you know that?”
He nodded toward her feet. “Your feet were half frozen that first night when you came to bed. You thawed them on my calves.”
She flushed. “I did not.”
He grinned. “That part of the past I do remember, very clearly. Like little blocks of ice, they were. Woke me up.”
There was a long silence. She hovered, undecided.
He tried to sound as disinterested as possible. “You know it’s the most sensible solution. What good would it do you or the children if you caught a chill?”
