King Among the Dead - Lauren Gilley Page 0,38
he looked wonderful to Rose. Alive was the most beautiful thing of all.
“No,” she assured. “Just tired.”
He snorted, softly. “The worst part is, I think you mean that.” He glanced up through his lashes, oddly bashful, terribly endearing.
She wanted to – do things she shouldn’t. She knotted her fingers together in front of her, and contented herself with the sight of him, instead.
The taps shut off in the bathroom, and Kay came out, sparing only a quick eyebrow shrug of surprise at seeing Rose standing by the bed. “I only filled the tub a few inches. You can’t get your stiches wet.”
“A few inches is better than nothing,” Beck said, and twisted around so he could push back the covers and swing his legs over the side of the bed. He did it with bared teeth, and quiet little hisses of pain, stomach sucked in sharply, all the muscles thrown into harsh relief. Braced his hands on the mattress on either side of him afterward, toes hovering just above the carpet. Gathering himself, preparing for the effort.
“Might as well come help me with him while you’re here,” Kay said to Rose, and both of them moved into position, bracketing him.
“I can hear you, you know,” Beck grumbled, tone flat. “And I’m sure I can manage.”
His draped his arms across their shoulders, though, and let them help him upright and across the floor. His arm was a normal temperature, Rose was thrilled to note – she was thrilled by the brush of his skin against hers, too, and hoped he couldn’t feel the way her hand tightened on his wrist.
He was weak, but not in the stumbling, semi-conscious way that he’d been before. In the bathtub, the promised few inches of water steamed. Kay had laid out a towel, a cake of soap, and a washcloth. They walked Beck up to the edge of it, and Rose became aware, again, of the tight, black boxer-briefs…and the fact that he would need to strip them off in order to climb into the tub.
“Um…” she started. It wasn’t that she was afraid for him to take them off – quite the opposite – but she was going to blush a lot, and he would see it, and remark on it, and he would just be there, naked, and…
He breathed a soft laugh. “Thank you, ladies, but I can navigate the rest by myself.”
Rose blushed, furiously, as she detached herself from beneath his arm.
Kay, in typical fashion, said, “Good, ‘cause I ain’t giving you a sponge bath, your lordship.”
Rose held onto his arm another moment, until she was sure that he had his feet firmly planted and wasn’t wavering. He glanced over his shoulder as he hooked a thumb in his waistband, and winked, and it should have been absolutely lewd, but his little smile softened it. As did the sincerity in his voice when he said, “Thank you, Rose. I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t get those stitches wet,” Kay admonished.
“So you said moments ago.”
They left him alone, the door firmly shut.
“Quick and we’ll remake the bed while he’s in there,” Kay said. “Nothing like getting clean and climbing back into a dirty sick bed.”
Rose lingered a moment, outside the closed door; listened to the gentle sounds of disturbed water, a hiss, a few deep breaths, and then the displacement as Beck settled in the tub. Her face felt on fire. Her palms itched. She felt like she did when she was in the middle of reading a passionate love scene – only everything was heightened by the knowledge that Beck was real.
“Don’t just stand there,” Kay said, and she went to help.
ELEVEN
Beck showed marked improvement over the next several days. He could navigate his bedroom and bathroom without assistance, and Kay allowed that the bandages could come off, and the stiches allowed some air. He insisted on coming downstairs to eat in the kitchen, a slow process that left him pale and out of breath, but they refused to allow him to cook. He sat on Kay’s usual stool and offered suggestions while Kay and Rose prepared soft, easily-palatable dishes, and tried to keep him from sneaking bites of things he wasn’t yet allowed to eat.
He paced the length of the first floor hallway, building up his strength despite their cautions and admonishments. He would sigh, and thank them, and try to disguise whatever frustrations he felt – and shoot Rose winks when Kay wasn’t looking.
Finally, the stitches came out, and that night at dinner,