was beginning to bead with perspiration. She was swallowing convulsively. Through dry, pale lips she whispered piteously, “Please get it off me.”
Jack stared at her for a few seconds, stunned by the unexpected intensity of her reaction.
“Please,” she whispered again, shuddering under his hands.
“My poor girl. I’m so sorry,” he said remorsefully. “There is no spider. None at all.”
He took the tray from her unresisting hands and laid it on a nearby table, not taking his eyes off her.
She stared at him, uncomprehending. He placed his hands on her shoulders again and gave her a tiny shake to jolt her out of her trance-like terror.
“There is no spider. I made it up,” he explained apologetically. “It was a trick.”
Her mouth opened and she started to breathe again in deep, agonised gasps.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I wanted to see if you understood Spanish.”
She looked up at him in confusion, her mind still numbed by the remnants of her uncontrollable fear of spiders.
“I spoke in Spanish, you see.” His hands rested warmly on her shoulders. She was still trembling and, despite himself, he was moved. Not knowing what else to do to atone, he drew her against him, wrapped her in his arms and held her tight against him, uttering soothing noises in her ear. He inhaled slowly. What was that fragrance she wore? It was hauntingly familiar. His arms tightened.
It did not occur to him that it was utterly inappropriate for him to be behaving in this way with a mere kitchen maid. As a boy, Jack had frequently brought home creatures in distress—half-drowned kittens, injured birds—and if he had thought of it now he would have explained to anyone who asked that he was merely offering comfort and reassurance. And she felt so right just where she was.
Kate’s cheek was pressed against his chest, her head tucked in the hollow between his chin and his throat. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the roughness of his unshaven cheek catching in the silk of her hair as he moved his face gently against it. She heard the steady thud of his heart. His strong body cradled hers, protecting, calming.
It had been so long since Kate had been held so comfortingly, the impulse just to let herself be held was irresistible. She felt his broad, strong hand moving soothingly up and down her spine and a shiver of awareness passed through her.
Gradually, Kate realised just who was holding her and why. She tried to wriggle out of the strong arms. He did not immediately release her, so with all the strength she possessed she thrust hard at his chest and emerged from his embrace dishevelled and panting, her face rosy with embarrassment.
“I suppose this is another one of your tricks!” She tried to smooth her hair and brushed down her clothes.
Jack felt his guilt intensify at her words and, unreasonably, anger flooded him.
“No, it damn well isn’t, you little shrew! I’m not in the habit of entertaining myself with scruffy kitchen maids. I was merely offering comfort.”
She glared at him, not knowing which made her angrier, his actions of the past few minutes or his description of her.
“Well, I don’t need your sort of comfort and I wouldn’t have needed comforting in the first place if you hadn’t played that beastly trick on me!”
“How was I to know you’d make such a devilish to-do about a spider?”
Kate’s temper died abruptly and she looked away. She had always been deeply ashamed of her fear of spiders and had tried valiantly to conquer it, to no avail. Her brain might tell her that the horrid creatures were small and for the most part harmless, but the moment she was confronted with one she panicked. It was a weakness in herself she despised.
“You’re right,” she muttered stiffly. “I’m sorry I made such a fuss. It won’t happen again.” She turned to pick up the tray.
“Not so fast, my girl,” he said, and his hand shot out to grip her wrist. He turned her to face
Jack stared at her for a few seconds, stunned by the unexpected intensity of her reaction.
“Please,” she whispered again, shuddering under his hands.
“My poor girl. I’m so sorry,” he said remorsefully. “There is no spider. None at all.”
He took the tray from her unresisting hands and laid it on a nearby table, not taking his eyes off her.
She stared at him, uncomprehending. He placed his hands on her shoulders again and gave her a tiny shake to jolt her out of her trance-like terror.
“There is no spider. I made it up,” he explained apologetically. “It was a trick.”
Her mouth opened and she started to breathe again in deep, agonised gasps.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I wanted to see if you understood Spanish.”
She looked up at him in confusion, her mind still numbed by the remnants of her uncontrollable fear of spiders.
“I spoke in Spanish, you see.” His hands rested warmly on her shoulders. She was still trembling and, despite himself, he was moved. Not knowing what else to do to atone, he drew her against him, wrapped her in his arms and held her tight against him, uttering soothing noises in her ear. He inhaled slowly. What was that fragrance she wore? It was hauntingly familiar. His arms tightened.
It did not occur to him that it was utterly inappropriate for him to be behaving in this way with a mere kitchen maid. As a boy, Jack had frequently brought home creatures in distress—half-drowned kittens, injured birds—and if he had thought of it now he would have explained to anyone who asked that he was merely offering comfort and reassurance. And she felt so right just where she was.
Kate’s cheek was pressed against his chest, her head tucked in the hollow between his chin and his throat. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the roughness of his unshaven cheek catching in the silk of her hair as he moved his face gently against it. She heard the steady thud of his heart. His strong body cradled hers, protecting, calming.
It had been so long since Kate had been held so comfortingly, the impulse just to let herself be held was irresistible. She felt his broad, strong hand moving soothingly up and down her spine and a shiver of awareness passed through her.
Gradually, Kate realised just who was holding her and why. She tried to wriggle out of the strong arms. He did not immediately release her, so with all the strength she possessed she thrust hard at his chest and emerged from his embrace dishevelled and panting, her face rosy with embarrassment.
“I suppose this is another one of your tricks!” She tried to smooth her hair and brushed down her clothes.
Jack felt his guilt intensify at her words and, unreasonably, anger flooded him.
“No, it damn well isn’t, you little shrew! I’m not in the habit of entertaining myself with scruffy kitchen maids. I was merely offering comfort.”
She glared at him, not knowing which made her angrier, his actions of the past few minutes or his description of her.
“Well, I don’t need your sort of comfort and I wouldn’t have needed comforting in the first place if you hadn’t played that beastly trick on me!”
“How was I to know you’d make such a devilish to-do about a spider?”
Kate’s temper died abruptly and she looked away. She had always been deeply ashamed of her fear of spiders and had tried valiantly to conquer it, to no avail. Her brain might tell her that the horrid creatures were small and for the most part harmless, but the moment she was confronted with one she panicked. It was a weakness in herself she despised.
“You’re right,” she muttered stiffly. “I’m sorry I made such a fuss. It won’t happen again.” She turned to pick up the tray.
“Not so fast, my girl,” he said, and his hand shot out to grip her wrist. He turned her to face
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