Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(50)

“Celia,” he said huskily.

The way he said her name made her shiver. Quietly she went to him, stopping at the side of his bed.

Justin was very still, drinking in her presence. So it was she, the angel who had watched over him. Her cool hands, her soft voice. She had bathed and fed him, forced medicine down his throat, held his hand, assuming he would not remember anything. But he did remember at least some of it. And she had done it, all the while detesting him. Why in the hell had she taken care of him?

Suddenly he grinned, finding it very amusing. “Celia,” he said with a low, piratical laugh. “My little wife.”

Celia stiffened. There it was, that nasty, mocking grin she had expected. So Maximilien had explained the situation to him. “I am not your little wife!”

“To the rest of the world you are.”

“It will be nothing but a…” She struggled for the right expression. “A faux-semblant—”

“False pretense.”

“Yes, that! And I would not be helping you had your father not begged me to.”

“Father begging? My God, I’d have liked to see that. Of course, I’d like to see anything.” Justin reached out and snatched her arm with ease. Even in her irritation Celia was startled by his accuracy. Pulling her closer, he settled his hand on her hip. “You’ve been eating well,” he observed. She jerked away with a sound of outrage. “I like you better this way,” Justin said. “It’s damn uncomfortable to bed down with a bony woman.”

“You and I are never going to bed down,” she said through her teeth. “That is one of the things I came up here to tell you. I will agree to help preserve your miserable life only if you submit to my rules.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. “I have written them down, and I—”

“All right,” he interrupted.

“But you have not heard—”

“I agree to your rules. Whatever the hell they are.”

“I wish to read them to you.”

“Read them to me later. I’ll be bedridden and at your mercy for days.”

Celia stayed a safe distance away from him, walking around the bed. His head turned as if he were watching her. Silently Celia observed that his color was excellent. He seemed to be recovering with astonishing speed.

“What are you thinking?” Justin asked. “I can’t see your face.”

“With that beard you look like a big goat.”

He smiled, raising his hand to the wiry mass. “I’ll have to shave it soon.”

“Even then no one would ever mistake you for Philippe.”

“Is that so?” Justin relaxed against the headboard, his smile turning into a sneer. “I’ll fool even you, sweet wife.”

“Do not call me that!”

He scratched his side, wincing at the pull on his broken ribs. “I would like a bath.” A dark patch of hair flashed underneath his arm.

“Later.”

“I want it now.”

“Lysette or Noeline will see to it,” she muttered.

“I knew you would be too much of a coward to do it—while I’m awake, that is. But you bathed me while I was unconscious, didn’t you? Aye, I’ll bet you became acquainted with every inch of my helpless body. You probably stared at me for hours.”

“I did not, you…you conceited pig!”

“Didn’t bathe me?”

“I did not enjoy giving you bed baths! I did it because it was necessary. But I do not find you attractive, and I am not a coward merely because I have no desire to see you naked. And I will not bathe you again!”

“If you say so.” He paused and pointed out, “A good wife would do it for her husband.”

“You are not my husband. And one of my rules is that you will not take advantage of this masquerade by making ridiculous demands such as this!”

“Ridiculous? I hope that someday you’ll discover how ridiculous it is to be unable to do a damn thing for yourself and be forced to beg someone to wash your stinking body! At least give me a cloth to wash the parts I can reach.” He heard her walk away from the bedside. “Leaving?” he taunted. Still no reply. There was the splash of water from a pitcher into a basin. He lay there expectantly, listening to her footsteps as she walked back to him. The sheet was stripped from his body with startling suddenness.

Celia was grateful for the bandages that covered his eyes. She never could have done this had Justin been able to watch. The sight of his nakedness had been jolting enough when he was unconscious, but now that he was awake and knew exactly what she was seeing, she felt a crimson blush cover her from head to toe.

Impersonally she tucked fresh lengths of toweling underneath him, dipped a sponge into the basin of water, and began to wash his neck and shoulder, taking care not to wet his bandages. Justin sighed quietly and relaxed, not bothering to hide his pleasure at the feel of the cool water on his skin. She pushed his beard aside as she scrubbed his chest.

“You’re good at this,” he muttered. She did not reply. He moved his arm as she eased it away from his side. “Say something to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a woman’s voice.”

“What would you like for me to say?”

“Tell me how it has been for you the past few months.”