To Love and Protect (8 page)

Clarissa lay scrunched in the hipbath across the room, fast asleep.
 
Her breasts pointed proudly to the ceiling, the tips beaded from the water and the slight coolness in the air.
 
He kicked the door shut behind him, but she showed no response, not even her breathing changed.
 
After laying down the tray, he walked over to her.
 
The aureoles were a peachy color and he could not help wondering if they tasted just as sweet.

A tantalizing glimpse of her blonde mound shimmered in the light reflecting off the surface of the water.
 
His body tightened in response to her nubile form.
 
Her hair draped over the lip of the small tub, cascading in waves to the floor.
 
It took all of his will power, not to crawl down there and bury his nose in the golden strands.

He walked over to the bed and threw back the covers.
 
There were several bath sheets lying in a stack on a stool.
 
He took one and spread it out over the left side of the bed.
 
Not caring about the damage to his shirt, he walked over to her and lifted her from the water.
 
Rivulets cascaded from her body back into the tub, sounding like a tinkling waterfall in a shallow brook.
 
Instead of waking, she curled into him and unconsciously wrapped her arms around his neck.

Justin felt his manhood tightening to a painful awareness.
 
Her breasts pressed sensually into his chest, flattening against him.
 
He could feel her nipples like stiff little beads.
 
Her skin felt warm, wet, and slick.
 
Justin couldn’t help but wonder if another part of her would be that same way.
 
Her legs draped over his arm ending in cute, petite toes.
 
What he wouldn’t give to take that foot and gently have her press it against...

He abruptly cut his thoughts off.
 
If he did not stop, he would not be able to leave the room, let alone walk across it.
 
He walked over to the bed and gently laid her on the bath sheet trying to ignore her body glistening in the lamplight.
 
Justin retrieved another bath sheet and draped it on top of her, then pulled the rest of the bedding over her.
 
Before he could change his mind, he quickly left the room and temptation.

Hours later Justin entered the room once more.
 
He had drunk his share of the ale that flowed below stairs and bought his share of the rounds.
 
Finally, sometime during the past few hours, he had felt his erection slowly ease.
 
Perhaps posing as man and wife had not been the most brilliant idea.
 
He prayed to God that they found her father soon and could stop this charade altogether.
 

He looked over to the bed and saw her lying where he left her.
 
She cradled her cheek in the palm of one of her hands, and the other draped across her waist.
 
She emitted a faint snuffling sound.
 
So the fair Clarissa snored.
 
Of course she would deny it if asked, but it made her a little more human and less ethereal.
 

Justin looked wistfully at the other side of the bed, wishing he could stretch out and rest his weary body.
 
He turned and walked to the pitcher and splashed some water into the basin.
 
He stripped down to his pantaloons and wiped off the areas of his body that he could reach.
 
Afterwards, he walked to the chair in front of the fire and fought with his boots, finally winning the battle.
 
Justin leaned back in the chair, shirtless, his strong feet and legs crossed at the ankle and surprisingly drifted off to sleep.

Clarissa peeked beneath her golden lashes at the man across the room from her.
 
Her body felt achy and her breasts heavy after watching him strip off his shirt and wash his muscular chest.
 
His fairness would not allow him to be darkly tanned, nor was he pure white either.
 
No, his skin carried a golden glow about it, enhanced by the fire.
 
Clarissa would have loved to be closer, so she could have touched him and known what his skin felt like beneath her fingertips.
 
His feet were strong and capable looking.
 
Odd, she thought, that she even gave credence to the look of a man’s feet.

She looked around the room a moment and realized that he must have moved her to the bed.
 
Clarissa didn’t know whether to be agitated with him or upset that she missed being in his arms.
 
Her stomach growled with hunger and she saw the tray of food sitting on the small table next to the door.
 
She threw back the covers and discovered that she was nude beneath them.
 
A gasp of shock escaped her lips.
 

She grabbed the top bath sheet and quickly wrapped it around her body.
 
Her jaw dropped at the implications of this event.
 
Justin must have carried her to the bed in her current state of undress.
 
Clarissa felt a deep blush cover her entire body.
 
He had held her naked form in his arms.
 
How could she have slept through that?
 
She shook her head in amazement.
 
She pushed herself up from the bed, glad to see her legs were sturdier than they had been.
 
Clarissa walked, albeit a bit shakily, to her bag and started rifling through the contents.
 

“Oh, no,” she murmured softly.
 
She had packed so quickly and in such haste that she had forgotten to put in a night rail.
 
She searched once more just to make certain, but came up empty handed.
 
Clarissa did a search of the room and saw Justin’s bag sitting next to the washstand.
 
She quickly walked over and searched the contents.
 
There were two clean shirts.
 
Clarissa hastily pulled one out and slipped it over her head, doing up the buttons partway.
 
She had to roll up the sleeves and the hem came to her mid-thigh.

It was not as decent as her cotton gowns, but it would suffice better than a mere towel.
 
She walked over to the tray and picked it up, carrying it to the bed, careful not to wake her roommate.
 
Clarissa usually thought best when she walked, but tonight her legs were so sore she did not think they would support her weight anymore. Slowly she perched on the edge of the bed and began devouring the food in a very unladylike manner.
 
The ale had become warm but still felt refreshing after a long day of traveling.
 
The food tamed her growling stomach.

Feeling refreshed, she let her mind drift over their journey thus far.
 
She continued to worry over the fact that they had found no one who remembered seeing her father.
 
He could not have just disappeared.
 
Clarissa absolutely refused to consider that he might no longer be with the living of the world.
 
She pushed away the food and rolled onto her side, her back to the door.

She brought to mind a map of England that she had examined in her father’s study.
 
After talking to his secretary, she had carefully compared the way he would most likely travel.
 
They were definitely following the course.
 
She tried to remind herself that they were only on their first day, but she felt dejected just the same.
 
Although she fought it, she continually found her thoughts drifting to the unthinkable—her father’s demise.
 

“If all women look as you do in a man’s shirt, I suspect more
ton
marriages would be successful.”
 
Justin’s words startled her so that she nearly fell off the mattress.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Couldn’t get comfortable,” he mumbled.

Guilt suffused her.
 
She sat up, crossing her legs and made sure the sheet covered her completely.
 
Clarissa wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger and began to twist.
 
The bad habit had started as a child, and she had yet to overcome it, despite the tangled mess it caused.
 

“What’s wrong, Clare?”
 

“What did you call me?” She glanced up startled.
 

“Clare.
 
Clarissa seems like a mouthful and much too old for you.”
 
He let a small, dramatic shiver punctuate his thoughts.

“Oh,” she said uncertain what to think about this.
 
She liked the sound of the shortened version of her name and how it rolled off Justin’s tongue.
 
His Scottish brogue made her name sound like a caress, regardless of which version he used.

“Go back to sleep.”
 
He crossed his arms over his massive chest and closed his eyes once more.
 
She laid the now empty food tray on the floor by the bed and closed her eyes.
 
Clarissa tried to ignore his shifting form that caused the chair to creak.
 
She really did feel sorry for him.
 
The question remained as to how sorry?

“Justin,” she called softly.

“Hmmm?”

“There’s enough room in this bed for the both of us.”

One of his eyes opened a mere slit.
 
Open enough for him to see if she were serious.
 
“Clare, I don’t know if this is really all that good of an idea.”

“Listen, you didn’t have to accompany me on this search.
 
You could have simply walked away.
 
We are both tired and need to rest.
 
You can sleep on top of the blankets.”

Reluctantly he stood, his body crying out for the comfort of the bed.
 
His back and neck were stiff and his knees popped with every step.
 
When had he become old?
 
His grandfather would say he wasn’t old, but soft.
 
He could almost hear the old man say, “Too much of the Sassenach rubbin’ off on ye, grandson.”
 
Perhaps, but right now he craved that bed more than anything, well, almost more than any thing.

He watched as the beautiful blonde creature made room for him.
 
His make-believe wife.
 
For a moment he almost wished it were real.
 
His body very much wished it were so.
 
He crawled onto the bed and stretched out, relaxing himself muscle by muscle.
 
Then he felt her soft hand on his arm, and he felt the blood immediately flow to his manhood.

“Is this better?”

“No,” he grunted, pushing himself off the bed.
 
He took a pillow and the very top blanket with him.
 
He walked to the hearth and lay down in front of the glowing embers.

“You would rather lie on the floor than in a bed?” she questioned.
 
He could hear confusion lace her voice.

“Right now, yes.”

“Fine, I hope you spend the night in agony,” she huffed and flipped over, her back to him.

“Not as much as if I had stayed in that bed,” he said softly, not knowing that she heard his every word.
 
A deep blush covered her body, but excitement raced through her.
 
As she fell asleep, for the first time in over a fortnight, her thoughts were not about the safety nor whereabouts of her father.

***

Stiffness greeted every bone and joint in Justin’s body the next morning.
 
Slowly he stood up and stretched his aching muscles.
 
When he turned to the bed, his heart skipped a beat.
 
Where had she gone?
 
He walked over to the mattress and noticed it was cool to the touch.

“Damn.
 
Why can’t she just stay put?” he questioned the empty room.
 
He moved quickly, throwing on clothes and pulling on boots.
 
As soon as he finished dressing, he flew down the stairs.
 
At the bottom, Justin came to an abrupt halt when he saw Clarissa sipping from a sturdy mug and staring out the window.
 
His breath whooshed out of him in relief at just the sight of her.
 
He rolled his neck to relieve the pent up tension.
 
Feeling himself slowly relax, he walked across the room.
 

“Please tell me that is not ale you are drinking with your scone and clotted cream.
 
I don’t want to have to hold your hair back half way down the road.”

“No, it isn’t.
 
It’s tea, but this is the only glass Mr. West could find.
 
His wife isn’t feeling well this morning, and he’s done a fine job seeing to my breakfast.”

“At least it is a decent combination.”
 
He pulled a chair out and sat down, devouring three scones within ten minutes.

“Hungry?” Clarissa asked, cocking a brow mockingly.

“Starving.”
 

“Tea?”
 
He motioned for her to fill a mug for him as well.
 
“Anything else, your majesty?
 
I am but a humble servant.”
 
She bowed her head demurely, her tone mocking.
 

“As a matter of fact.
 
The next time you decide to take your breakfast, let me know where you are.
 
Some of these places have unsavory characters.”

“I left you a note.
 
Did you not find it?”