wherever they please, welcomed or not.” She stopped abruptly and stared at him. “Why did you drink?”
Anger burst forth. “Because I wanted to! You cannot tell me how to live my life!”
Her eyes flashed. “No. That is true. I cannot. However, while you are under my roof and care, I can tell you how to live your life. When you leave here if you wish to continue your debauched lifestyle, feel free to do so. But do not return here for treatment. Ever again.”
With those words ringing in the room, she turned and left.
And he felt like a fool.
After locking the front door—and no she did not do that because Sterling chastised her—she stomped up the stairs to her bedroom. The man was absolutely impossible. The sooner he finished with his healing, the better for her state of mind.
Even more annoying was the way her treacherous body reacted to him. He was a libertine, an alcoholic, a rake, rogue, a dissipated debaucher.
There. That should cover it.
Then why did she feel tingles in various parts of her body when she looked at him, and when he offered her that crooked, little boy smile?
Ha. He was no little boy. And although she had pretended she’d hadn’t noticed, she did indeed see his rising interest in her when he was looking at her breasts before. Then she cursed her own dampness and hardening nipples.
For heaven’s sake she was getting herself all twisted up.
Father would never approve of how she handled the situation tonight, either. He’d condemned her more than once for her soft heart. He would have thrown Sterling out the door, along with his friends.
She could not do that. The man needed help and that was what she swore to do when she managed to finagle her way into medical training. In fact, her dream was to expand her infirmary to not only accept more patients who did not have the funds to seek medical help, but also those who did have the funds but were considered hopeless.
Like Lord Sterling.
Even the wealthy had their needs, and Sterling was in dire need of straightening himself out. No, she would not become his champion, but she would send him back home free of his addiction. It would be up to him to keep it up, or spiral back down into dissipation.
Now that she as a bit calmer, she needed to fix dinner for the two of them, and Walter. She had sent him on a trip to the greengrocer and fishmonger. He should be back any time.
She took a quick look into her mirror to smooth back her hair. She stared at her reflection for a minute. What, exactly, did Sterling see when he looked at her? A staid old maid? A rigid doctor? Or a pretty woman?
Hell and damn, she was acting like a silly debutante. She hurried from the room, aware of the extra beats her heart took. Halfway down the stairs there was a knock on the door.
“Why is the door locked?” Walter asked as he moved past her once she opened the door. His arms were full of packages.
She shrugged, uneasy with his scrutiny. Surely, he didn’t think she locked the door so she and Sterling could be alone? “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe it’s a bit unsafe leaving it open all the time.”
He nodded. “You’re probably right. When I’m not at the door, you should probably lock it. Anyone seeking your help can knock.” He lumbered down the corridor to the kitchen.
“Dr. Stevens,” Sterling called from his bed.
Rayne squared her shoulders and entered the room. “Yes?”
Oh, damn, that smile. He held out his hand. “I want to apologize.”
“Indeed?” For heaven’s sake, she sounded like an old dried-up schoolmarm. Well, perhaps she wasn’t a schoolmarm, but she was sure he viewed her as dried up.
She relaxed her stance but didn’t take his hand. “I accept.”
He grinned, her insides betraying her again.
“I haven’t said for what I’m apologizing. As you pointed out, there are many.”
She sniffed. “You owe me no apologies except for drinking that brandy.”
He raised himself up on one elbow. “I will not do that again. You were right that I have had a few difficult days without the brandy, and I hope that one swallow won’t put me back at the beginning. Do you think so?”
“One swallow?” Her brows climbed to her hairline.
He rested his head on his hand, looking just like a little boy trying to charm his nanny into skipping his nap. Lord, why