Silas did not do much wood carving. In fact, he did not carve at all for that night, he wished to simply sit and hold Arabella close to him.
It took a good ten minutes for the scarlet color around her face to subside, just as long as her heart needed to simmer down.
She sat in his arms, back against his chest, very similarly to the way they sat upon Chance's back earlier.
At some point, their breathing rhythm synchronized, their tongues still as no more words needed to be said.
The two of them simply basked in each other's warmth.
From time to time, Silas would thread his fingers through her hair and brush it softly as he inhaled her essence.
Arabella's muscles relaxed completely, allowing him full control and knowing full well he wouldn't try anything that could make her uncomfortable.
Not that he didn't wish to take initiative, Lord knew his hands itched and ached to feel her tender skin under them but rushing her was never even on his list of desires.
