The Sicilian's Unexpected Duty(15)

                Cara cried out, kicking her legs as if the movement would stop the hot fluid seeping through her dress.

                Immediately Pepe jumped to his feet and hurried over, snatching the cup from her hand. ‘Are you okay?’

                In too much pain to do anything more than whimper, Cara grabbed the hem of her dress and bunched it up to her thighs, flapping it to cool her heated skin. Making sure to keep the dress up and away from the scald, she yanked the tops of her black hold-ups down.

                ‘Are you okay?’ he repeated. For some silly reason, the genuine concern she heard in his voice bothered her far more than the scald.

                The milky white of her left thigh had turned a deep pink, as had a couple of patches on her right thigh. She took a deep breath. ‘It hurts.’

                ‘I’ll bet. Can you walk?’

                ‘Why?’

                ‘Because we should run cold water over it.’

                Her thighs—especially her left one—were stinging something rotten, so much so she didn’t even think of arguing with him.

                ‘Come, we’ll run the shower on it.’

                Wincing, she let him help her to her feet.

                Her legs shook frantically enough that she almost fell back onto the sofa, only Pepe’s grip on her hand keeping her upright.

                He frowned and shook his head, then, before she knew what he was doing, lifted her into his arms, taking great care not to touch her thighs.

                ‘This is unnecessary,’ she complained. She might be in pain but she didn’t need this. Besides, she was vain enough to know she must look ridiculous with her dress bunched around the tops of her thighs, her modesty barely preserved. Her stupid black hold-ups had fallen down to her knees like the socks of a scatty schoolgirl.

                ‘Probably,’ he agreed, heading through the living area and into a narrow corridor, carrying her as if she weighed little more than a child. ‘But it’s quicker and safer than you trying to walk.’

                The position he held her in meant her face was right in the crook of his strong, bronzed neck. A compulsion to press her face into it almost overcame her. Almost. Luckily she still retained some control. But she’d forgotten how delicious he smelt, like sun-ripened fruit. Her position meant her senses were filled with it and she had to use even more restraint not to lick him.

                Pepe’s bathroom was twice the size of her bedroom and resembled a miniature black, white and gold palace. She had no time to appreciate its splendour.

                ‘You’re going to have to take your dress off,’ he said as he carried her down some marble steps and carefully sat her on the edge of the sunken bath.

                ‘I jolly well am not.’

                ‘It will get wet.’

                ‘It’s already wet.’

                ‘Suit yourself.’ He knelt before her and placed a hand on her knee.

                She tried not to yelp. ‘What are you doing?’

                ‘Taking your stockings off.’ He tugged the first one down to the ankle. While she hated herself for her vanity, Cara could not help feel relief that she’d remembered to wax her legs a few days ago.