When she made no move to put the hat on, he stepped closer and gently did it himself. His fingers, rough, scarred and calloused, brushed against her skin as he tied it beneath her chin and it was only after he spoke that she realized, much to her humiliation, that she’d been holding her breath.
“You can breathe now, Lady Nerissa,”he said softly. “I’m really not about t’ravish ye.”
Your eyes say otherwise, she wanted to say. And I don’t believe I’d detest it as much as I think I might.