Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(58)

She wondered if the other night had changed her view of him.

It hadn’t.

He was still handsome and yet now more familiar. Her heart did a flip in her chest.

Her hands itched to touch his face, to trace the line of his firm jaw and high cheekbones, to brush his hair away from his slashing eyebrows so she could get a better look at his long, thick eyelashes that framed eyes that matched the ocean they sailed upon. She’d dreamed of sliding a finger down his crooked nose, which he’d broken when saving her from Murad.

She had often dreamed of the day she could run her thumb over his sinful lips—she’d done that and much more the other night. Her skin tingled. She knew what it was like to taste his lips, and she hungered for more.

He looked better. The pain lines around his mouth had eased. He was still not fighting fit, but in profile he looked more like an angel than ever. With a slight frown, Hestia thought maybe more like a fallen angel. His tempting lips were set in a cynical smile and his stare had turned cool and hard. If she didn’t know him better, she’d believe all the stories about him being a jaded pleasure seeker who didn’t give a damn about much of anything or anyone. With a smile she knew that wasn’t true. He cared enough to help her and her father.

As if sensing her stare, her archangel turned his head and met her gaze. Her breath caught in her throat; she’d never tire of this vision of unearthly male beauty.

His eyes grew wary and he motioned for her to enter and take a seat.

She put on a brave smile. “You are looking so much better. It is good to see you up and about.”

A flash of confusion and then what looked like relief washed his cheeks with color.

He was so close she could reach out her hand and touch the elegant features of his face.

She felt a moment’s alarm. Surely he had not remembered their night together. No, he would have come to her immediately if he had.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” Alex’s soft words broke the silence, his voice as smooth as velvet, sending tingles down her back.

“Not that I can think of. Other than I assume I can now go back to sleeping at night instead of playing nursemaid.”

He remained silent, his eyes assessing her as she began to butter some toast. By the time she poured her tea, she was all fingers and thumbs.

Her pulse sped up. “Would you stop staring at me, Alex? I feel like I have two heads. What on earth is the matter?”

“Nothing.” Alex relaxed and gave her a dazzling smile in return. The smile lit up the whole stateroom and her heart swelled in her chest.

“I did want to discuss…that is I thought it best we talk…”

She dropped the teapot onto the table with a bang. “Talk? What about?”

He hesitated, seemingly at a loss as to what to say.

She kept her face devoid of emotion, willing him not to press the point, but she had a suspicion Alex knew something had happened between them; perhaps not the exact details, thank God.

“About our plan to capture the sloop.”

Her breath exhaled in a rush when he did not press the matter. “It’s still following us, I gather.”

“Yes, and I’m pretty sure Fredrick’s on it. The earl and you will be much safer if we capture him.”

“How do you propose to do that?” She didn’t much care, really, but she was so relieved not to be discussing what occurred the other night.

As he outlined his plan her stomach began to settle. He did not know the complete truth, and a surge of relief swept her fear away.

“So be prepared to leave the ship with Mr. Foxhall as night falls.”

Damn, she’d missed the plan. “With Mr. Foxhall?”

“Did you listen to anything I said?”

“Can you just repeat that bit, as I was too busy eating? I did not have much supper last night.”

“I noticed. Your tray was barely touched.” At her look of confusion, he added, “I came by your cabin last night to see how you were feeling.”

“I had a headache.”

“So I was told,” he said, and explained his plan once again. When he’d finished he stared into her eyes, his gaze hypnotizing. “Are you sure there is nothing bothering you or something you wish to tell me?”

She would play dumb. “No. Nothing other than I must have been overheated. My head was thumping. David—that is, Mr. Foxhall—gave me some powders for it.”

“Well, when you go ashore with Mr. Foxhall, promise me you’ll stay close to him. He’ll protect you should anything go wrong.”

“I swear to follow his every direction. If we capture Fredrick, what then?”

“I will leave you, David, and some of the men with my friends on Corfu. They will hold Fredrick until I find your father.”

“And then you’ll go after Murad?”

His mouth almost fell open. “You know of my plan.”

“David told me.”

His mouth firmed and she watched his hand curl into a fist.

She reached for his hand and held it tightly. “I can understand why you’d want revenge if we crossed paths with Murad again, but I don’t know why you think it wise to chase after him. This is his territory. He has more men, more spies, and the idea that you could enter these waters and he wouldn’t hear about it is ludicrous.”