Free The St Nicholas' Day Wager by Em Taylor Page B

has been kicked repeatedly on the torso before. Usually it is leg, arm or face and head injuries. Yours is the first male torso I have ever touched.”
    “Mmm!” He threw his head back against the pillow. “I wish you had not said that. I cannot believe I still have to wait nine days until I can haul you astride me and watch you ride yourself to oblivion.” A smile tipped the corners of his mouth and although she had no idea what he meant about riding him to oblivion, she knew he was talking about the marital bed. But she could not ask the countess about it tomorrow. It sounded very personal and she was absolutely convinced that Nick would be patient and kind to her and not expect much of her in the beginning.
    He opened his eyes and gazed at her, his brow crinkling. “Oh God, what did I just say. I said that out loud, did I not?”
    She nodded.
    He groaned, dropping his head back on the pillow and covering his eyes with his hand. “I’m sorry, Gabby. The pain in my knee is excruciating and I’m trying my hardest to keep my mind off it. I spoke without thinking and I have offended you. Please accept my humblest apology.”
    “There is no need. I am not offended. A little surprised and confused as to what you mean but not offended.”
    He raised a hand, stroking the back of his knuckles down her cheek—that cheek. The one she had hated since she was old enough to understand the large red mark was not normal—that it set her apart from other little girls. She shuddered, unable to stop the reaction to his gentle caress. She was terribly attracted to this man and her body craved something that she did not understand. But she would not dare to believe he found her attractive despite the lovely words he spoke.
    She turned back to the jar of salve, intent on finishing her task and disappearing back to her own bedchamber before she acted on the desire to press her lips to that bruise forming below his sternum. What would the skin on his torso feel like against her lips? For that matter, did people even kiss parts of the body that were not the lips and hands? She licked her own lips. Nine more days and she would know.
    ****
    He was in agony, and not just in his knee, head and torso. The expressions fleeting across her face made him grow harder. And then her pink tongue peeked out from her mouth and moistened her lips. He was almost undone.
    Her mouth changed into a hard line as she set about completing her task of rubbing salve into his bruises. He had to admit that the chilli pepper concoction was helping, as was the view down her cleavage when she leaned down to rub the medicinal concoction around his hip which, until that moment, he had not realised was sore. Her hand worked, skimming the waistline of his breeches. He bit back a moan of pleasure as she unknowingly let her hand stray rather too near the part of his body that was most impressed by her touch.
    He placed his hand over his straining erection. Better that she nudge his arm than anything else, both for his sake and hers.
    “Are you nearly finished?” he rasped, praying to God in heaven that this beautiful torment would be over soon.
    “Yes.” She placed the lid on the jar, wiped her hands on a linen, before leaning over him to check his wound. Devil take it. She was temptation incarnate and those breasts were dangerously close to his face again. And as for her earlier comment about his mother and tying something…it had been the laces of her stays that had not been tied properly because those breasts were almost in their natural state and they were glorious.
    He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.
    “I’m going to bed now. Is there anything more you need before I retire? The bell cord is here by your side.”
    A kiss goodnight.
    Instead he lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. She smiled shyly at him then pulled her hand away and moved to wake her maid.
    Nine more days and she would be his. He doubted he had anticipated bedding a woman like this