Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,4

Throck. I would have saved the other agent if I could. Let’s just hope Uncle Randall never does find out. Mr. Croft is strong. He’ll recover quickly and then he’ll be gone from our lives.”

She ladled broth into a bowl and took it up to her patient. She knocked lightly on the door before walking in, although she had stripped Mr. Croft out of his clothes so she’d gotten an eyeful of him then. Her eyes were still bouncing in their sockets. He was a magnificent specimen.

Still, now that he was awake she wanted show proper decorum.

His eyes had been closed, but he opened them and smiled when he saw her enter. “I missed you,” he murmured. “Broth smells great.”

“I brought up some bread, too. I made it earlier in the day. It’s fresh.”

He frowned. “I never knew a lady to take on the chores of a servant. Not that I doubt you’re a lady. Everything about you screams it. Nor do you appear impoverished. Your gown does not look threadbare. Nor do your boots look careworn.”

“I live alone by choice.”

“Why, Genalynn?” He groaned as he struggled to sit up. “Hen’s teeth! Every part of me screams at the slightest twist or turn.”

“Then stop moving around. You’ll pop the stitches.”

“Fine.” He sank back against his pillows. “I wasn’t looking for a logical answer, just wanted to grumble.”

She smiled at him. “Are you through grumbling now?”

He laughed. “Yes. But I’d still like an answer to my question. Why does someone like you wish to live alone?”

She shrugged. “I prefer it this way. I’m still in mourning for my father. He died about six months ago and I have not yet stopped grieving for his loss. He was a good man.”

“That still doesn’t explain why Throck is your only servant. What have you done with the other household staff? And where is the rest of your family?”

Talking to this man was not a good idea.

She could see he had an active mind that never stopped assessing, thinking, questioning. Had she any sense, she’d leave now. His wound had been properly treated. He had his broth and bread. The fire had warmed the room sufficiently and he had a thick, wool blanket for added warmth if his body was chilled.

Heavens, his body.

She frowned at him. “I think you ought to stop talking and start eating.”

“Will you stay with me tonight? I mean sit by my bedside, although you are most welcome to share this bed, if you so choose. There’s plenty of room.”

“I’d smack you if you weren’t already in so much pain. No, Throck will watch over you this evening. I don’t think he’d take too kindly to being invited into your bed.”

He cast her a wickedly seductive smile. “No, that offer is exclusively for you. I enjoy your company, Genalynn.”

“No, you don’t. Even shot and on the brink of death, you can’t turn off the roguish side of you.”

“You’re wrong.” He eyed her with a depth of thoughtfulness she hadn’t expected. “If I did not care for you, I would already have you in this bed, stripped out of your clothes, hot and writhing under my body.”

Her heart leaped into her throat. Really, this man was too much. “Ah, yes. I can see it in my mind already, you ripping your stitches and bleeding all over the two of us as I cry out in ecstasy and beg you for more.”

He laughed, then winced in pain and clutched his side. “It would be worth it with you. I’d die a happy man. Will you lie to yourself and deny you are attracted to me?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a man so full of conceit.”

“Yes, I’m quite full of myself. But even pompous arses can fall in love, can’t they?”

She laughed. “Oh, so now you’re in love?”

He nodded. “With you, not Throck. He isn’t my type. I just wish to be clear about that.”

She ladled a spoonful of broth into his mouth. “I think you must be delirious. You ought not talk anymore.”

“On the contrary,” he said after taking a little more of the broth and some of the bread she’d sopped in it to soften it for him. “A woman brave enough to save my life, smart enough to heal me, and beautiful enough to take my breath away. I think this is the sort of woman I should marry.”

“Well, when your fog clears you will realize I am not quite the angel you believe me

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