Page 47 of The Hellion and the Captain
“Yep,” was all she said as she kept her eyes closed, until she finally heard Rhys say, “You can sit up now. They’re all gone.”
She slowly eased herself into a sitting position, although she rested her head against the wall behind her, finding both Rhys and Colin staring at her with worried expressions.
“You took some hard hits out there,” Colin said. “How are you doing?”
“Splendid,” she said, attempting some humor, but when she tried to laugh, she almost cried at the pain.
“I think we need to take a look at those ribs,” Rhys said. “Can you lift your shirt?”
“But—” Colin began, but Rhys shook his head.
“She has linen beneath.”
“Ah,” was all Colin said, but he still turned his head away.
She untucked her shirt and gingerly lifted it up until the place where her ribs ached was visible. Rhys’s swift intake of breath told her that they must not look good, and she cringed when he prodded them again.
“No practice this week,” he said, and her jaw dropped as her gaze swung around to meet his, disappointment filling her, for she knew what that meant.
“But—”
“Those need to heal, or you won’t be good for anything,” he said. “Understood?”
“Yes, Captain,” she muttered, causing Colin to laugh.
“Do you need help, Emmaline?” Colin asked. “I can ask Lily to come to you.”
“I think I might,” she said, hating to admit it, but she wasn’t sure she could properly raise her arms. “Please ask Lily?—”
“No,” Rhys swiftly interjected. “We don’t need Lily. I’ve got her.”
“But—” Colin began, and Rhys turned to him. Whatever was in his expression was enough to stop Colin, for heslowly nodded. “Very well,” he said, understanding more than just Rhys was willing to help her. “If Emmaline is fine with this.”
“I am,” she said, and Colin nodded again, although his gaze was bouncing from one of them to the other with interest.
“Well, I’ll see you both at the pub, I assume. Good game, Emmaline.”
With that, he shut the door, leaving the two of them alone, silent except for Emmaline’s swift intakes of breath as Rhys worked on helping her change.
He was so gentle with her, from the way he slid the fabric over her arms and legs, to lifting it over her head, making sure that he didn’t touch her in any way that would hurt as he wet a piece of linen and slowly slid it over her skin to wash her off. His every touch had Emmaline hissing, some in pain, but much of it due to the way he was excruciatingly teasing her, even if he had no intention of doing so.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” she finally asked, her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Doing what?”
“Sliding that towel over me. Making me want you more than I ever have before.”
He let out a strained laugh. “I am not doing anything on purpose. I’m cleaning you off,” he said.
“Maybe you need to go lower,” she suggested, tilting her head down to where her knickerbockers were still tied tightly around her waist.
“Emmaline!” he scolded her. “You are injured.”
“Notallof me,” she said with a wicked grin, her exhaustion fading, and his brow furrowed as he stared down at her.
“What am I going to do with you?” he said.
“That is what I am waiting to find out.”
