didn’t he stink of body odor or something?
He fiddled with the skirt, placing it just so. His broad hands cupped her hipbones then slid to her waist, where he slowly, carefully, adjusted the fabric. Wrapping the strings from back to front, he stepped even closer to tie them.
Her pulse began to accelerate. Her body temperature began to rise. His nearness overwhelmed her and it was all she could do not to step back. The moment he released her skirt, she snatched the little jacket off the bed and stepped away.
“I can do it myself,” she said a little too sharply, and turned her back on him.
The jacket’s laces kept the front panels together, so getting into it was no easy feat, especially with the shift underneath, but she was determined to dress herself without his help. She managed to get the jacket over her head and her arms through the sleeves without pulling the laces entirely loose. But her shift bunched awkwardly beneath it, pulling too tight in some places and hanging out in others.
“What I wouldn’t give for a simple bra,” she muttered. She fought with the outfit, reaching beneath the skirt to try to pull the fabric down, shoving and yanking at the bodice, trying to hide her sole undergarment, but there was no way the shift was disappearing. Was it supposed to show? She could seriously use a fashion magazine about now.
She felt his fingers in her hair. Strong, male fingers lifted the locks as his knuckles trailed sensuously down the side of her neck, sending a shiver through her startled body.
Julia jerked away from his touch and whirled to face him. He was too close, towering over her with that damnably engaging smile, half-boyish, half-sexy-as-hell. She had to steel herself against the urge to step back, to retreat to safety.
Instead, she glared at him. “I’m going to tell you this once, caveman, and you’re going to listen to me. Don’t ever touch me without my consent. Not for any reason and not with any part of your anatomy, do you understand?”
His half-smile turned chilly and the look in his eyes hardened. Something about that look made her think of a cat toying with the mouse he was getting ready to make his dinner.
“Aye,” he said softly, sharp-edged amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I’ll have your consent, then, for you look as if you were dressed by a blind lady’s maid.”
Julia stared at him, her frustration rising even as her anger drained away. She sighed loudly, unhappily, and gave him a rueful twist of her mouth. “You’re obnoxious, do you know that?” With a quick grin that reached his eyes, he grabbed the ties of her skirt and hauled her closer, then set about loosening the ties of her jacket.
“If we were in my time, Braveheart, I’d haul you up on sexual harassment charges so fast your head would spin.”
His hands stilled.
She hazarded a glance up, afraid she’d really offended him this time. But the look in his eyes was an ocean away from offense. Heat flickered within the Carolina blue.
“’Tis not sexual harassing I wish with ye, lass.” His voice was low and husky. “But sexual pleasuring.”
Liquid warmth gathered low in her body. “Back off, Scotty.” But her own voice sounded breathless and almost as husky as his.
With that infernal little smile of his, he jerked her closer, brushed his lips against her temple in a quick, surprisingly sweet touch, then went to work straightening her dress with sure, skilled hands. Though, if she’d thought he’d spent an inordinate amount of time on the skirt, it was nothing compared to the top. His knuckles brushed her upper chest over and over as he tugged and straightened. His palms slid beneath the jacket, cupping her shoulders, smoothing the shift, then reached beneath it in back, smoothing and adjusting.
Finally, he turned her to face him and pulled the edges of the jacket together, right over her breasts, lingering too long.
“Keep moving.”
His mouth kicked up at one corner. “Yer as
He fiddled with the skirt, placing it just so. His broad hands cupped her hipbones then slid to her waist, where he slowly, carefully, adjusted the fabric. Wrapping the strings from back to front, he stepped even closer to tie them.
Her pulse began to accelerate. Her body temperature began to rise. His nearness overwhelmed her and it was all she could do not to step back. The moment he released her skirt, she snatched the little jacket off the bed and stepped away.
“I can do it myself,” she said a little too sharply, and turned her back on him.
The jacket’s laces kept the front panels together, so getting into it was no easy feat, especially with the shift underneath, but she was determined to dress herself without his help. She managed to get the jacket over her head and her arms through the sleeves without pulling the laces entirely loose. But her shift bunched awkwardly beneath it, pulling too tight in some places and hanging out in others.
“What I wouldn’t give for a simple bra,” she muttered. She fought with the outfit, reaching beneath the skirt to try to pull the fabric down, shoving and yanking at the bodice, trying to hide her sole undergarment, but there was no way the shift was disappearing. Was it supposed to show? She could seriously use a fashion magazine about now.
She felt his fingers in her hair. Strong, male fingers lifted the locks as his knuckles trailed sensuously down the side of her neck, sending a shiver through her startled body.
Julia jerked away from his touch and whirled to face him. He was too close, towering over her with that damnably engaging smile, half-boyish, half-sexy-as-hell. She had to steel herself against the urge to step back, to retreat to safety.
Instead, she glared at him. “I’m going to tell you this once, caveman, and you’re going to listen to me. Don’t ever touch me without my consent. Not for any reason and not with any part of your anatomy, do you understand?”
His half-smile turned chilly and the look in his eyes hardened. Something about that look made her think of a cat toying with the mouse he was getting ready to make his dinner.
“Aye,” he said softly, sharp-edged amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I’ll have your consent, then, for you look as if you were dressed by a blind lady’s maid.”
Julia stared at him, her frustration rising even as her anger drained away. She sighed loudly, unhappily, and gave him a rueful twist of her mouth. “You’re obnoxious, do you know that?” With a quick grin that reached his eyes, he grabbed the ties of her skirt and hauled her closer, then set about loosening the ties of her jacket.
“If we were in my time, Braveheart, I’d haul you up on sexual harassment charges so fast your head would spin.”
His hands stilled.
She hazarded a glance up, afraid she’d really offended him this time. But the look in his eyes was an ocean away from offense. Heat flickered within the Carolina blue.
“’Tis not sexual harassing I wish with ye, lass.” His voice was low and husky. “But sexual pleasuring.”
Liquid warmth gathered low in her body. “Back off, Scotty.” But her own voice sounded breathless and almost as husky as his.
With that infernal little smile of his, he jerked her closer, brushed his lips against her temple in a quick, surprisingly sweet touch, then went to work straightening her dress with sure, skilled hands. Though, if she’d thought he’d spent an inordinate amount of time on the skirt, it was nothing compared to the top. His knuckles brushed her upper chest over and over as he tugged and straightened. His palms slid beneath the jacket, cupping her shoulders, smoothing the shift, then reached beneath it in back, smoothing and adjusting.
Finally, he turned her to face him and pulled the edges of the jacket together, right over her breasts, lingering too long.
“Keep moving.”
His mouth kicked up at one corner. “Yer as
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