When Harry Met Molly

Chapter 33

When Harry woke up the next morning, he saw that Molly was still sound asleep, her mouth slack, one arm thrown up above her head.

He grabbed his wet clothes, turned away, and stepped out of the tent into the fresh morning air, allowing himself only the smallest of sentimental grins. Last night had been…amazing, yes. But he couldn’t think about Molly that way anymore. He must think of her as his entry in the contest instead. She must, too. Neither of them could afford to forget he had a one-in-five chance of getting legshackled to another woman.

Thankfully, she’d made it clear last night she agreed with him wholeheartedly—there could be no serious attachment between them.

It was time to win.

He eyed his wet breeches distastefully before pulling them on.

And just in time.

“Good morning!” Molly poked her head out of the tent and smiled broadly at him. Her long lustrous brown hair hung free, and she was once more back in her own gown.

It seemed her usual vigor had been restored by a good couple of hours of sleep…after.

He grinned. “Ready to head back? Prinny’s servants will clean up here.”

“All right. But…I—I need to fold some blankets first.”

“Oh.” He fumbled for an excuse to give her a few minutes alone. “I just remembered I need to inspect a tree down the trail. Why don’t I do that and come back…soon?”

“Thank you,” she said, looking relieved. “You’re very thoughtful.”

He smiled, gave her a little salute, and took off down the trail. Somehow Molly made him feel like a hero about the smallest things, which was quite nice. And different from the way Fiona and his other mistresses had complimented him. They’d always flattered him with a lofted brow, a pursed mouth. The old come-hither look.

Molly treated him more like a friend.

He’d never had a woman he’d seen up close and naked treat him like a friend. Was it lowering? An affront to his pride?

Or refreshing?

He stopped, took a moment to inhale the fresh morning air, washed clean by last night’s rain.

Refreshing, he decided.

In fact, for some reason he felt like a new man this morning, ready for anything. Sir Richard’s threats seemed far away. And so did his departure from this place and from Molly. He vowed to enjoy every minute of their last full day together.

Molly splashed water on her face from a bucket of water left by one of Prinny’s servants. And blushed. Harry had once again performed wonders on her last night.

He’d seen her completely naked, too. Up close!

She couldn’t believe it!

But she must not think of that. It was daylight now. The truth was plain—she and Harry had one more day together, and then they each must go to their other lives.

She would be practical. So she went back into the tent and folded the blankets, all the while trying to focus on the finale—not on Harry.

She would win tonight! Everyone would be amazed!

But she did wish she could see Harry naked again. And she wished he could do more things to her, and she to him.

Oh, dear. She would have to stop those thoughts for the rest of the day. She would think about the competition instead.

But hadn’t she already told herself that?

She shook her head, hoping to loosen Harry’s hold on her thoughts.

“All set then?” Harry was back.

“Yes,” she replied, and wondered what he was thinking.

He opened the tent flap for her, and she stepped out.

“We have a big day ahead of us,” he said, his face unreadable. “We must do our very best to win the finale.”

“I know.” She hesitated, but then just came out with it. “You won’t be thinking of me naked, will you, Harry? Because I really need to concentrate.”

“You can rest assured I won’t be thinking of you naked all day,” he said, with what she thought was admirable fighting spirit.

“Thank you. And I won’t be thinking of you naked, either.”

There was the tiniest of pauses.

“Let’s just focus on today,” he finally said. “And remember we’re a team. We want to win big. Think of how we both shall benefit.”

“Yes,” she said, with equal spirit. “A team.”

Harry stuck out his arm, and she took it. But not before she looked one last time at the campsite and committed the scene to memory.