Page 23 of Beau

“I don’t know what happened,” she said. “One minute, I was brushing, and the next minute, the brush was wadded up in the tangles. I’m not usually so clumsy.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his tone as soothing as his hands.

Moments later, he had the brush free and began working through the knots slowly and patiently. He took his time, careful not to yank too hard and hurt her.

Aurelie closed her eyes and let him wield his magic. She could tell when he’d loosened the last knot and fully expected him to stop.

He smoothed the brush through her hair, over and over. The soothing repetition lulled Aurelie into a trance. She must have fallen asleep and started dreaming. In that dream, Beau alternated between brushing and kissing her hair.

In her dream, she leaned her head back against his bare belly. His kiss skimmed her lips. She wanted to reach up and pull him closer. Deepen the kiss. Take it to the next level.

The brushing stopped, and the dream kisses stopped.

“All done,” he said, his voice deep and resonant.

Aurelie blinked her eyes open, wanting to tell him to kiss her again. But that had been in her dream, right?

Beau reached around her and laid the brush on the desk. “I’ll leave it here in case you need it again.” He spun away from her, grabbed a pillow from the bed and held it in front of him as he hurried for the door. “I’ll be outside the door if you need me. All you have to do is yell.”

Then he dove through the door and pulled it closed behind him.

The room cooled by several degrees without his presence.

Or did her body cool?

Aurelie drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Had she fallen asleep? She touched her fingers to her lips.

They still tingled from the dream, much like they had after he’d kissed her at the chateaux.

She stared at the door, tempted to open it and ask him if his kisses had been a dream or if they’d been real.

Aurelie rose from the desk chair and was halfway across the room before she stopped. If the kisses had been a dream, the question would reveal to him what she’d been dreaming about. He’d think her pathetic. Would he kiss her again out of pity?

If the kisses had been real...

That could ignite something she wasn’t sure she was prepared to commit to.

Something…? Like what?

A one-night stand?

The few times Aurelie had engaged in sex, she’d been in a committed relationship. Granted, she’d ended up breaking up with the men when they hadn’t satisfied her physical or emotional needs. She’d wondered if she was destined to be disappointed by sex. Maybe she was...what was it one of her boyfriends had called her...?

Frigid.

Aurelie crossed her arms over her breasts as she stood staring at the door. She was hot, inside and out. Her pulse raced, pushing molten blood through her veins.

Most definitely not frigid. Not now, anyway.

She took another step toward the door. If she felt this strongly toward her Robin Hood before they had sex, how would she feel during?

Her feet carried her a couple more steps, propelling her toward the man who’d piqued her sexual curiosity.

As if of its own accord, her hand wrapped around the knob.

The cautious, logical voice in her head warned her to think about it. But she could barely hear that voice, like it was coming to her from the deep, dark depths of a cave. The irrational, impulsive woman she’d suppressed for most of her life as a politician’s daughter activated the muscles in her hand and twisted the knob, pulling it open before logic could engage.

Beau had been sitting across the hall with his back to the wall, the pillow lying across his lap. As soon as the door opened, he was on his feet in a split second. “What’s wrong?”

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