Page 52 of The Duke's Bartered Mistress

His breath tickled the side of her neck. “Georgia?” When she hummed, his fingers eased their pressure, stroking instead of massaging. “How long will this last?”

“The pain should be gone by tonight.” Another yawn. “Or did ye mean the bleeding?”

“The pain,” he clarified gruffly. “I thought of something else that’ll make ye happy.”

She grinned sleepily against his shirt. “More chocolates?”

“When ye’re feeling better, I’ll take ye to cut pine boughs. For the banisters and mantels and the like.”

“For what?”

Demon huffed out a little irritated sigh. “For Christmas, ye daft woman.”

Georgia’s eyes flashed open and she tipped her head back to stare up at him. “Really? You will let me decorate for the holiday?”

He was frowning, but nodded curtly against the pillow as though the entire thing was out of his hands. “Aye. If it’ll make ye smile again.”

Her smile was weak, but it was there. “Thank you, Demon.”

“Go to sleep,” he barked.

Who was she to disobey an order?

Closing her eyes, Georgia made herself comfortable against his shoulder, a little grin on her lips. The hot water bottle was easing her cramps, he was warming her inside and out, and the massage felt glorious. And there were chocolates and a hot bath waiting when she woke up!

Perhaps being a woman was worth it, after all.

Chapter 11

“I’m freezing,” Demon grunted, sawing at a pine bough several days later, “and sweaty at the same time.” The branch broke off in his hand. “Feckless spunk-muffin, finally. I’m covered in sap…” He was balancing in the notch of a tree six feet in the air, so he twisted carefully to toss it onto the pile. “And I keep getting jabbed by…nature.”

Georgia was on her knees in the snow, bundling the boughs and tying them with twine he’d brought in his greatcoat pocket. Without looking up, she said with a smile, “It must be hard to be such a strong, brawny man.”

“I think that squirrel is glaring at me.”

“Do not worry, Demon. I shall protect you from the nasty, scary nature.”

He rolled his eyes and began sawing at the next branch, wishing she’d let him bring his ax. “I like nature. I’m out here in it all the time. This is my nature. But we have an agreement; I dinnae chop down trees, and it doesnae allow its squirrels to plot my demise.”

She hummed as she moved on to the next bundle, the front of her coat covered in snow. “You were hacking apart a rose bush the first time I met you.”

“That didnae count.” Another branch for the pile. “That was in the garden.”

“Yes, I can absolutely understand the difference.” Georgia didn’t need to look up for him to know she was being sarcastic. “Speaking of which, I need your help with the ivy on the front façade.”

The saw slipped. “What?” He twisted to peer down at her.

She smiled up at him from under an ornate winter—what was that? Did it even count as a bonnet? “The ivy on the front of the house is overgrown. If I am only to be here for another two and a half weeks, I would address it sooner rather than later.”

Two and a half weeks. Had half his time with her already gone past? Demon did the math in his head. Shitenuggets!

He shouldn’t have been surprised. The last five days—without her in his arms—had crept by. He hadn’t been able to fook her, aye, but holding her…

Well, shite, he’d been able to hold her, as he’d done that day she was in so much pain, but he wasn’t fooking going to do it, was he? He wasn’t a fool, and wouldn’t allow himself to become one.

So he hadn’t touched her.

No fooking, no cuddling, no touching.

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