The Master Of Strathburn by Amy Rose Bennett Page A

evidently had no trouble changing out of his wet things into a loose, white linen shirt, tan buckskin breeches and black leather half boots. His dark hair, still noticeably damp, hung loose to his shoulders.
    ‘I c-canna seem to manage, after all, I’m sorry.’ She gestured toward her bandaged arm by way of explanation for not having undressed.
    Without a word, Rob crossed the room and knelt before her. His eyes held hers for one long moment and Jessie couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Even though his expression was unreadable his tone was gentle when he spoke. ‘Let’s take a look at your ankle first. I don’t think it’s broken but let’s check.’
    Jessie nodded. She closed her eyes, and her whole face burned with embarrassment when Rob carefully lifted her skirts and began to unfasten the ribbon ties of her stockings just above her knees. Never before had any man touched her like this or seen so much of her body. She gripped the edge of the wooden chest and swallowed past a suddenly tight, dry throat. She couldn’t believe she was letting this complete stranger touch her in such an intimate fashion.
    But the most incredible thing of all was that her body was reacting in a completely different way from how it usually did when Simon Grant had taken liberties. She was not repulsed at all by Rob’s hands on her bare skin. She felt strangely unsettled—her skin tingled wherever Rob’s fingers grazed her and a strange warmth began to bloom low in her belly. But she did not have the impulse to shrink away from Mr Rob Burnley.
    No, not at all.
    * * *
    God’s teeth, how am I supposed to help Jessie undress with any semblance of composure?
    Robert’s blood began to pound hard and fast through his veins as he bent to the task of lifting Jessie’s skirts and exposing her legs. When he had first entered the room and had realised that he was going to have to help her, he had been determined to steel himself against his body’s primal urges. He had sternly reminded himself that this woman was quite possibly in love with Simon and that he could not trust her.
    But despite his resolution, he was swiftly becoming hopelessly aroused. And unaccountably nervous—his hands shook slightly and his breathing was uneven. For Christ’s sake, control yourself, Robert . He was reacting like a green, unskilled youth, not a thirty-year-old man who had undressed his fair share of women.
    He tried to concentrate on just undoing Jessie’s garters and rolling down the wet woollen stockings one by one, and not on the fact that when he’d first lifted her skirts, he’d accidently caught a glimpse of tight ginger curls at the apex of her thighs; or that her legs were impossibly long, pale and slender; or that where his fingers brushed, they left behind a trail of light goose-bumps.
    He carefully lifted her naked right foot in one hand whilst he probed the swollen tissues of her ankle gently with the other. He fought the sudden impulse to kiss the delicate arch of her foot and run his tongue along the silken skin behind her knee. Tried instead to focus on the fact that her ankle was indeed only sprained as they’d both suspected.
    ‘Good news. No broken bones. I’ll strap it for you after I attend to your arm,’ he murmured without looking at her whisky-coloured eyes. His voice sounded thick, husky. He swallowed and stood up. Thank heavens his long linen shirt hung loose and hid the fact that his cock was straining against the front of his breeches. He did not want Jessie to be alarmed by his inopportune arousal. ‘Do you think you can stand so that I can help with your gown?’
    In response, she stood carefully and slowly turned, presenting her slender back to him. He suddenly wondered if she had ever been undressed by Simon. The same frustrated anger that he had felt when he’d seen them together this morning lanced through him. He wondered what she could possibly see in his half-brother.
    So he could gain better