Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(46)

She’d wait a few minutes for the laudanum to work before she attempted to change his bandages. Anything to delay the inevitable, the coward that she was; she couldn’t face hurting him while he was still so awake.

Soon the drug took effect and his words turned to mumbles and then quiet.

Then she set about changing his dressings as quickly and carefully as she could.





Chapter 13


Over the following two weeks as they sailed south Alex’s wound started to mend nicely and Hestia’s chivalrous knight grew restless. He seemed to loathe being confined to bed and glared at anyone who entered his cabin, cursing them when they would not let him rise. The fact that he was champing at the bit to get up and about, yet his men could so easily subdue him, only reinforced how weak from the blood loss he actually was.

During the day he was unbearable. Hestia could hear him yelling a constant stream of commands at Jacob, who would stomp off around the ship cursing the “bloody patient.”

At night she still sat by his side as he slept. Although Jacob said Alex didn’t need the laudanum, she continued to give him the one drop each night. He might fool the men, but she could see the small pain lines around his eyes and mouth every time he tried to move. Her conscience wouldn’t allow him to suffer any more pain on her behalf. With all her heart, she vowed to protect him from further harm.

His sleep was fretful, the light sheet covering his body often tossed aside by the power of his strong thrashing legs. He’d taken to wearing drawers for modesty, but the fine linen did not hide much.

She blushed with shame, remembering how long she took in pulling the sheet back up. She loved to gaze upon the lean, hard length of him. His beauty stirred all her latent feminine instincts. She grew moist between her thighs and her heart raced at the primal sight of him. He was perfect.

He grew more restless during the dark hours as he healed. She enviously wondered who filled his thoughts and made his dreams so potent. Most nights the sheet tented.

Tonight Alex was in a foul mood when she arrived. Jacob was arguing with him.

“If we can capture the sloop, we have an advantage. We won’t have to keep looking behind us.”

“Every day we delay heading to Greece, the greater the chance Fredrick’s men find the earl first.” He cursed at himself. “Don’t make me get out of this bed.”

Jacob laughed. “You’re healing, that’s true, but you are still not at your full strength.”

“I will be by the time we get to Greece.”

“You will be by the time I capture the sloop.”

They glared at each other. It was a testament to the relationship the pair shared that Jacob was not backing down.

“Compromise then. We can stop at Corfu and meet with our contact to find out what, if anything, they’ve learned of the earl, and see if the sloop is still with us. Once we learn more and hear news of the earl, I will reappraise the situation.”

“And what of—”

Upon seeing her, Alex shook his head. “How long have you been standing there?”

Jacob turned to her and snapped, “See if you can talk some sense into him. He’s like a lion with a sore paw tonight. I need some fresh air before I slit his other side,” he said, and stormed out of the cabin.

“I’m in charge here, don’t forget,” Alex yelled as the door slammed behind her. “What do you want? I don’t need a nursemaid, I’m perfectly all right.”

At the sound of Alex’s deep, angry voice, she lifted her head and gave him a considered look. He did look much better.

Then he tried to sit upright and his grimace brought a hint of a smile to her lips. Why did men have to be so stubborn? How they hated to show any kind of weakness. Familiar longings rippled through her. She wanted to cradle him in her arms and kiss away his hurt, but he’d never allow that.

“I will sit with you until I’m told otherwise by Mr. Foxhall. He is the surgeon.” She crossed the room to take the armchair at the end of his bed.

“I see your ankle has mended; you aren’t hobbling any longer.”

Hestia glanced at him warily as he lay back against the pillows, his slashing brows knitted in an auspicious line.

“Yes, it is much better, thank you for asking. How are you feeling tonight? It would appear your temper is not improving as quickly as your health.”

His brows furrowed further. “If everyone would stop fussing over me I’d be a lot better,” he growled at her.

Ignoring his scowl, Hestia asked, “Have you slept at all today?”

“Good God, woman, I’m not a child.”

Hestia bit back a retort about how he was certainly behaving like one. “You need rest to recuperate. The longer you fight David’s orders, the longer it will take you to get on your feet again.”

His face turned dark and a rumble similar to thunder sounded low in his chest. He began to move.

With a gasp Hestia uttered, “What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m getting on my feet again.”

He made to swing his long, lean legs over the side of the bunk.

“But you’re not dressed.”

He is feeling better, Hestia thought as his face broke into a wickedly seductive smile.

“I’m not forcing you to look. Turn away if the sight disturbs your sensibilities, although I believe as you’ve been nursing me these past weeks I’m sure I have nothing further to hide.”