Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(23)

“I asked you to give Hestia food should she wake, not sit holding hands.”

The voice from the doorway was as hard as diamonds and sparks were flying as he took in the sight of her hand being held by Mr. Foxhall.

Alex prowled into the stateroom like an avenging angel, his darkening eyes never leaving Mr. Foxhall’s face. “It’s a sorry day in hell when a man cannot leave a young lady in his friend’s company without him taking advantage of her.”

Mr. Foxhall dropped her hand as if scorched by fire and jumped to his feet. “Now, Alex—”

“For goodness’ sake, Alex, stop scowling so. Mr. Foxhall has been the perfect gentleman.”

She could feel her pulse rise at the sight of him. This was the Alex of old. He wore form-fitting dark breeches tucked into his hessians, but only a white linen shirt open at the neck, with the glimpse of a black-haired chest causing her pulse to leap even higher. He had some form of handkerchief or scarf tied around his head and he looked like an angry pirate. This was the man she’d sailed home with all those years ago, only now he seemed bigger, stronger, and scrumptiously masculine.

What filled her senses and made her stomach somersault was not only his beauty, but because it almost sounded as if he were jealous of Mr. Foxhall’s attentions to her. She dared not hope…

The woman in her reacted to Alex’s inherent sensuality, yet she sensed a deep sadness in him. She’d hoped that the prevailing years had lessened his memories of his captivity, and her heart hurt knowing she was forcing him back to a place he dreaded.

The Mediterranean held worse memories for Alex. She did not know what had happened to him during his two years with Murad, but she could imagine. Well…except she couldn’t really. She knew whatever he’d been through was bad because of his nightmares. She’d heard him scream out in his sleep as they had sailed home, and as the boat neared the place they both dreaded, she wondered if he still suffered from the ghosts chasing him.

His mouth firmed as he turned his scowl her way.

Hestia turned from Mr. Foxhall, her hand dropping to her side. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alexander. Mr. Foxhall has every right to understand the danger he is sailing into and why I have put everyone in this situation.”

Alex growled. “This situation is not of your making, and if he implied that it was I’ll call him out.”

Hestia’s mouth firmed as she took in Alex’s fists clenched at his side. She stared between the two men. Something primal was happening here, and she didn’t quite understand.

Mr. Foxhall held his ground. With a raised eyebrow he calmly replied, “I would never imply such a thing. I merely pointed out that marrying would make Lady Hestia less of a target.” He gave her a roguish smile, obviously enjoying Alex’s reaction. “I cannot imagine why some gentleman has not swept her off her feet.”

“You have only spent an hour with her; ask me again at the end of our trip,” was Alex’s snarky reply.

Mr. Foxhall’s mouth fell open and Hestia could see he was about to jump to her defense. This would not do. She did not want to make trouble between two obvious friends. The way Mr. Foxhall spoke to Alex…

Wide-eyed, hands on hips, she turned toward Alex and said, “If I am such a shrew, then why seek me out? I’d be more than happy to stay out of your way and put myself in the safe hands of Mr. Foxhall.”

She caught the deadly cold look Alex flashed at his friend. She also noted his hands relaxing back at his side. “Mr. Foxhall has his duties. If you must know I did not come to find you; I did not know you were awake. I came to find him.” He directed his words to Mr. Foxhall. “Jacob needs you. One of the men has sliced his hand.” With that, he strode across to the grand mahogany desk and poured himself a drink.

“Lady Hestia, it has been a pleasure.” Mr. Foxhall bowed low over her hand. “Please excuse me, duty calls.”

After Mr. Foxhall had taken his leave, Hestia wished her eyes could really shoot the daggers she was sending into Alex’s broad back. “That was uncalled for and you know it.”

He slowly turned to face her. “We have enough trouble following us to the Mediterranean, without David becoming one of your enamored dogged admirers.”

Hestia composed her features while all the while imagining the joy of slapping that all-too-perfect cheek of his. “I do not collect admirers; rather those who want my money.”

“Is that what you think? That you had all those proposals because of the money?” He looked her over like a man who was deciding if she was worth paying for the privilege of undressing. “You can’t be that na?ve.”

He had heard about her proposals? Her heart sank. He obviously hadn’t cared that she might accept one of them. “I realize that because of my time held as a captive of Murad, many men think—how do you say it—I might be prepared to share my favors. They were incorrect.”

The angry scowl was back. “You’ve been indecently propositioned? Who? I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Cause an even bigger scandal? What did you expect? As soon as my father learned I was safely home he resumed his travels. I was sent to Pembrokeshire as if in disgrace, and only had Aunt Eliza to stave off the scandal. It died down as you know, but it’s never forgotten.”

She liked how he cared enough to want to protect her honor. Hope blossomed and warmth swept her entire body.