Free A Knight's Reward by Catherine Kean

must help me.”
    “Of course. Hold still.”
    She moved closer. His thigh was no more than two fingers’ width from her legs. But, she stopped short of physical contact. That, she couldn’t do.
    From his tangle of tunic, he mumbled, “How mortifying. I cannot even undress myself.”
    She smiled. “I will not tell anyone.”
    “Especially Ewan. If he knew that I was not in truth a brave, skilled knight, but a helpless idiot—”
    Gisela rolled her eyes. “Dominic.” Leaning forward, she reached for his tunic’s hem. Simple to catch hold of the right side, but the left . . .
    Fighting the urge to blush, she reached across his splayed legs. ’Twould be much easier to stand between his parted limbs, but . . . she simply could not be so brazen. Biting down on her lip, she groped for the tunic’s left edge.
    “Be sure you grab the right sections of cloth, Gisela.”
    She huffed. “Do not be ridiculous.” Her fingers were nowhere near any part of him that might be inappropriate.
    Especially that part.
    Oh, God! Why did she even think about that part of Dominic?
    Her face burned. She hoped Ada and Ewan did not walk in while she helped Dominic, or she would owe them a very good explanation.
    “I was only trying to be helpful,” Dominic said, his voice close to her ear.
    Ha! Indeed.
    Her fingers slipped over his bare waist, tempting her with the feel of taut muscles and his skin’s smooth warmth. Tamping down a shiver, she caught hold of the left side of his tunic. “Keep still,” she said, more briskly than intended, while she began to draw up the hem.
    The movement caught her off balance. Gisela felt herself pitch forward. She must not fall onto him!
    With a startled squawk, she let go and stumbled back.
    Dominic sighed. “Gisela—”
    Impatience thinned his voice. The effort of holding his arms up at an awkward angle was no doubt aggravating his injuries.
    Her fault, for being foolish.
    Shoving aside her inhibitions, she stepped around his right leg, into the vee between his legs. The fabric of his hose brushed against her gown, a sensuous pull of cloth against cloth.
    His gaze sharpened. “I did not think you would come so close.”
    “’Twill be easiest to remove your tunic,” she said matter-of-factly, glad her tone did not betray the tiny tremors racing through her.
    “Mmm.”
    Bending at the waist, she reached for his tunic’s hem again. At this angle, her forehead bumped against his raised arms. When her fingers skated over his bared waist again, his breath rushed out on a hiss.
    Ignoring a fresh wave of awareness, she slowly drew the material up. With gentle movements, she eased out one of his arms, then the other, and pulled the tunic over his head. It landed on the table with a muted plop .
    He blew out a relieved groan. His arms lowered to his sides, drawing her gaze to his bare chest. His tanned skin flowed over honed muscles. Several pinkish scars marked his torso—healed wounds from past dragon fights. None, though, as deep as the scar on her breast.
    She swallowed hard, sensing his keen gaze upon her. Look away, Gisela. You are a commoner, and ’tis not proper to stare. Dominic is no longer your lover. He belongs to a lady .
    Oh, God, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Her fingers ached to journey over his skin in a deliberate caress, to trace each scar and rejoice he was still alive, and to discover whether the memories she cherished of him were still true. How she longed to touch him.
    Do not, Gisela. Do not!
    She started to turn away.
    With faint scrapes, his booted legs shifted inward. Trapping her.
    She gasped. Her gaze locked with his.
    Crossing his arms over his naked chest, Dominic smiled up at her.
    “Dominic—”
    “My limbs felt very weak,” he said with a mischievous little grin. “Thank you for helping me to regain my strength.”
    What cheek! “Release me.”
    “Aye, Sweet Daisy. When you tell me why you are so afeared.”
    Sweet Daisy . His special name for her