Free Innocent in the Ivory Tower by Lucy Ellis Page A

front of her that made her say, ‘It’s not your fault I fell. I did that to myself.’
    ‘How’s your arm?’ he asked quietly, not making a move.
    ‘I think it’s going numb,’ she said in a small voice.
    ‘You landed at a bad angle.’ He lifted his hand, hesitated, and then gently smoothed the tangle of curls that had been disturbed and now fell over one side of her face. Maisy swallowed. ‘I’d give you some painkillers, but I think we should wait until the doctor has a look.’
    ‘Okay.’ The truth was she didn’t want to be alone—not when her body felt as if it was in shock. And it wasn’t only the fall. The implications of everything he had thrown at her were beginning to sink in.
    The doctor was an urbane older man who clearly knew Alexei. He was scrupulously polite to Maisy as he examined her shoulder and prescribed painkillers, which he handed over to Alexei with instructions. Nothing was broken. Sleep and time would heal her.
    ‘I’m a fraud,’ she said tiredly. ‘Nothing broken after all.’
    Alexei sat down beside her on the bed. ‘Take these, Maisy,’ he said, and pressed two white pills against her lips.
    More physical proximity she couldn’t handle. Maisy drew them in with her tongue, brushing against his fingers, blushing. He’d think she was coming on to him.
    He poured a little water into her mouth and she swallowed them down. His thumb lingered on her bottom lip and Maisy gazed back at him, startled, feeling heavy and tired and numb. She shifted awkwardly as the boning in her bodice dug hard.
    ‘I need to get my dress off,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘I can’t sleep in it.’
    ‘Right.’ He reached behind her, his fingers starting on the dozen tiny fabric buttons. His touch whispered down her back and Maisy shut her eyes, wishing everything was different. ‘That’s the problem with couture,’ he said in a deep voice. ‘No zips.’
    ‘Anais gave it to me. I didn’t know it was couture,’ answered Maisy dully. ‘I never looked.’
    She caught her bodice with her good arm as the dress sprung free. She sat there, huddled in it, looking anxiously over her shoulder at him.
    ‘If you turn your back I can stand up and drop it and then get into bed,’ she explained awkwardly. She waited miserably for him to make some crack about it being a lousy attempt to seduce him.
    Instead he said quietly, ‘Of course.’
    He was so formal she could only stare at him as he stood up and turned his back.
    Maisy got off the bed and dropped the frock. Self-consciously she stepped out of the dress and kicked it away, shifting back onto the bed, pulling the cover up to her neck.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said awkwardly.
    The pillow felt blissful beneath her head. She could feel the drugs beginning to take effect. Alexei scooped up her beautiful dress.
    ‘I’ll leave you now,’ he said, in that oddly formal way. ‘If you need anything just call out. I’m in the room across the hall.’
    Maisy closed her eyes, damming up the tears that were brimming. She sensed the moment the lights went out.
    ‘This wasn’t how I envisaged the end of our evening,’ she heard him say in a low voice from across the room.
    I know
, she thought miserably.

CHAPTER FIVE
    M AISY opened her eyes in the vast bed to a low-grade headache and a great deal of self-recrimination as the memory of last night swamped her. She thrust her head under the pillow.
    Of
his
bed.
    She bolted upright, panic setting in as she realised she didn’t have a shred of clothing to wear. She was trapped in his bed in her lacy knickers. After everything he had said to her last night the last thing she wanted was to be accused of angling for sex. Because that was what he’d come out and accused her of—being some sort of bimbo on the make, cavorting in couture. Ridiculous as that was.
    Oh, Lord, where was her dress? The last she’d seen of it he had been carrying it away with him. Surely there were some clothes in this room?
    Wrapping her