Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I didn’t know that much noise could come out of such a little thing,” Cavendish teased as he strode from the room. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back in a few hours and then we’ll see about cleaning you up.”
Confused and mortified, I slid back down my bed and buried my face in the pillows. I didn’t have long to feel embarrassed or bemused by his continued presence because exhaustion pulled me deep into sleep.
“I don’t want to,” I grumbled a few hours later, feeling crabbit and out of sorts upon Cavendish waking me.
“You’ll feel better if you have a wash, little mouse.”
I glowered at the pet name, but I’d given up on telling him to stop calling me that. I think I’d realized quite quickly that if you told Cavendish not to do something, he took perverse pleasure in doing it even more. Such a child. “I don’t think my legs will take it.”
“If that’s true, you can get right back in bed. C’mon. You must be needing the loo.”
As soon as he said it, I felt the pressure on my bladder. Bloody Nora.
“Fine.” I weakly shoved aside the duvet and hurried to push down the hem of my nightgown.
“Let me help.” Theo offered his arm.
Stubbornly, I stood without aid. My legs shook and the room swayed. I felt so weak, it was almost shocking. I panted for breath and leaned, without meaning to, into Theo.
He quickly slid an arm around my back and took my clammy hand in his. “Come now, I’ve got you.”
Quietly, I marveled at his patience and cavalier kindness as he accompanied me from the bedroom and across the hall into the bathroom. My hair stuck to the back of my neck, and I wanted to scoop it up and out of my way. Sweat clung to my armpits, and while I couldn’t smell a thing through my stuffed nose, I gathered that I stunk after sleeping two days away and sweating out a fever through most of it.
If the smell was bad, Cavendish thankfully didn’t mention it. He took me into the bathroom. “Are you okay from here?”
Cheeks so hot, I knew I was cherry tomato red, I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. The bastard dared to chuckle at my mortification. “Fine. I’ll be outside if you need me.”
As soon as he closed the door, I used trembling fingers to situate myself on the toilet. Knowing he was out there, listening, however, I couldn’t go. Finally, I croaked out, “Can you walk out of hearing range?”
I heard his droll amusement as he replied, “Why am I not surprised that your bladder is as shy as you are? This is me walking away.” His voice got quieter until I could barely hear him.
Able to relieve myself, I did so with a sigh and then stared longingly at the shower.
Decision made, I cleaned up and crossed the room on shaky legs to switch the shower on.
Barely a few seconds had passed when Cavendish’s voice cut through the noise of the water. “What’s happening?”
“I’m having a shower.”
“Do you think you can manage, or do you need help?”
“Absolutely not!” I practically squawked at the idea of him helping me.
He chuckled through the door. “I’ve seen a naked woman before, little mouse. It’s not a problem.”
Well, it was for me! “I’ll manage, thank you very much,” I answered primly.
As wonderful as the lukewarm water felt on my body, however, I burned through the small store of energy I’d gotten from breakfast. Soon I felt woefully light-headed, so I hurried through the washing of my hair and fumbled to get out of the shower. My legs almost gave way as I stepped out of the bathtub, and I had to grab onto the sink to steady myself.
I must have cried out because Cavendish sounded almost concerned as he asked, “All right in there, darling?”
How casual he was with his endearments. “Fine … thank you.”
“I procured some clean underwear and fresh pajamas from your dresser. Do you want me to pass them through?”
Blushing profusely at the thought of him pawing through my underwear, I wrapped my body in a clean towel and opened the bathroom door. Everything was neatly folded and sitting in his palms. His gaze washed over me from head to foot.
“You look a little better.”
“I don’t feel it,” I whispered, swaying as I reached out to take the items.
“Do you need a hand?”
To dress me? My eyes flew to his in irritation, but I saw his question was sincere and not made in perverse jest. My irritation fled. “No, I can manage.”
Barely. It took me twice as long as normal to don my underwear and pajamas. As if he knew I needed some modesty, Cavendish was kind enough to select a pair of light cotton pajama trousers and a thin T-shirt.