“I’ll see to it later.”
“You are the most stubborn man I’ve ever encountered.” She rose to her knees and reached for his arm, determined to remove the bandage.
“No!” He tried to push himself up to a sitting position, but his arm gave way, and he fell back to the floor.
“Obviously, you are not well.”
She touched his arm again, and he didn’t protest. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandage.
He closed his eyes, and his breathing grew shallow.
She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had to see his wound. Finally, the last round of the thick bandage came loose. She expected to see a cut, perhaps a gash where a bullet had grazed him. What she saw stunned her. She took a deep breath and fought to still the churning of her stomach.
“What have you done?”
“I had to show my loyalty to Les Centimes. They insisted on branding me.” For several seconds, Amanda was incapable of speech. She was afraid she would lose the contents of her stomach if she so much as moved. The idea that someone would
dare hurt Rhys in such a fashion and that he would willingly suffer such agony was more than she could fathom.
“Why would you agree to this?”
“I was in too far. If I refused, they would have killed me. They intend to make a strike against the regent in two days. I was willing to do anything to foil their plan.”
“But you told Farrington you wanted nothing else to do with the investigation.”
“He ruined my deception. If any of my contacts saw me with the two of you, they will know I’ve been lying to them. Several of them know Farrington from our time in France and—”
“What?”
“I cannot risk them getting their hands on you.” He was hiding something. Amanda was certain of that, but she didn’t want to push him when he was in so much pain. “What will we do now?”
“We don’t do anything. I will talk to Farrington as soon as you’ve nursed me to your satisfaction. Hopefully, I’ve gathered enough information for us to stop them.” She found the courage to look at his wound again. “They deserve to die.” Rhys gave her an odd smile. “We’ll have to let Farrington take care of that.” Suddenly, Amanda remembered all the cruel things she’d said to him earlier, accusing him of having fun, of enjoying himself with women at the party. All that time he’d been in pain. You have no idea what I’ve been through. His words echoed in her mind and tears spilled down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” He reached for her with his good arm.
Feeling his warm fingers slide along her cheek made her tears fall all the faster. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t believe you’d been working all this time. I thought you’d sought out one of your mistresses when our wedding night didn’t go as planned. I was so angry with you.
I—”
“Any woman in your position would have assumed the same. I’d hoped to be able to visit you yesterday, but any contact I made would have put you in greater danger.”
“I missed you.” She wanted to tell him she cared about him. More than anything now she wanted their marriage to be real. But she was already pouring tears all over his chest when he was injured and feverish, she couldn’t burden him further by revealing she’d fallen in love with him. It would only make their relationship more awkward unless he felt the same way. She didn’t dare assume he did, but the fierce way he’d asserted that no other man would touch her gave her hope.
Rhys watched as Amanda hastily pulled his shirt over her head. He feared the dress Farrington had bought her was beyond repair. Once they were out of danger, he would have to buy her a replacement, one she would wear only for him. He wished she felt comfortable remaining naked with him, but he hoped that would come in time.
He pulled on his trousers and stretched himself on the sofa at her insistence. She’d tried to cover him with a blanket. But hot as he was, he couldn’t stand the thought of anything else touching his skin.
He should never have exerted himself before his arm had healed, but how could he resist Amanda? The throbbing in his arm accelerated and the heat it produced radiated through his body. But he could ignore most of the pain when he concentrated on Amanda’s declaration that she had missed him and her uncharacteristic tears. They gave him hope as none of her other actions had.
He studied her while she cleaned his arm and covered it with a fresh bandage. Her face was soft and relaxed, and her silky hair fell across her shoulders. She looked young and innocent despite her inappropriate attire. She was as gentle and tender as she’d been when caring for his stab wound. He hoped in the future he would see this nurturing side of her more often without having to sustain more injuries.
“Farrington will be here soon. We need to get you into some decent clothes,” he said when she’d secured the clean bandage. “And we need to introduce you to the servants. It will be their job to protect you if I have to leave.”
“You are not going anywhere in this condition. Besides, you said your plans had been compromised.”
“They have, but I may need to meet with someone else from Farrington’s organization.”
“They can come here.”
“Only the topmost agents know the location of this safe house. We cannot risk it being compromised.”
“You will not go running around London in this condition.”
“I have a slight fever. I’m hardly at death’s door.” He started to sit up, but she pushed him back. He was shocked by how little strength he had to resist. “Your skin is on fire. We need to summon a physician.”
“No! I cannot let anyone examine my arm. If word gets out to the authorities about Les Centimes too early, everything will be ruined.” Amanda sighed. “If you promise to stay here and rest, I will wait to summon aid.” He glanced at the window. He could see the pink and orange light of dawn.
Farrington would surely be there any minute. “I’ll do my best to conduct all my business from here. That is the best promise I can make.” She nodded. He hoped it was a sign of acceptance.
“Wrap yourself in this.” He tossed her the blanket she’d attempted to cover him with.
“Go upstairs and enter the first room on the left. You will find some women’s clothes in the wardrobe. I believe they will fit you”
Amanda’s scowled. “Where did these clothes come from?”
“They are cast-offs from my sister.”
“Oh.”
“Did you actually think I brought my mistresses here?”
“No. Yes. Never mind.”
“As I said, only a few agents know of this place. I wouldn’t compromise a mission in so foolish a way.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” She actually had the decency to look contrite.
“Once you’re dressed, search the desk for writing supplies. Send a note to your aunt telling her we’ve decided to take an impromptu wedding trip.” Amanda looked stricken. “I hadn’t even thought of Aunt Claire or Elise since we found you. If she’s discovered my absence, they’ll be worried sick.”
“If they find out where you were last night, they’ll likely kill me.” Amanda snorted. “Hardly. Aunt Claire will be thrilled you’ve forced me into hiding rather than letting me run about having adventures.” Rhys struggled to sit up despite her protests. He cupped her head in his hands and forced her to look directly at him. “You do understand how important it is that you stay here.”
“Yes, of course I do. Now let me get changed so I can be back before Farrington arrives.”
Rhys realized she expected to sit in on his conversation with Farrington. “Amanda, there is no need for you to be here while I talk to Farrington.”
“Someone must see that you don’t overexert yourself or make idiotic promises.”
“I assure you I can take care of myself. It would be better if you stayed upstairs.
There is a library you could avail yourself of, and the servants would be happy to supply you with anything else yo
u need.”
“Lord Farrington respects my ability to assist with the investigation. Why can’t you?”
His fists clenched involuntarily and pain shot up his injured arm. He would take pleasure in wrapping his hands around Farrington’s throat when the man arrived. How dare he involve Amanda in the agency after Rhys had specifically forbidden it? And now, he had to deal with Amanda speaking of the man in complimentary tones.
He fought to keep his voice calm. Showing his anger would only make Amanda push harder. “Farrington made a serious error in judgment. Something he does far too often.”
“I would think that unlikely, seeing as he’s survived for years doing the same dangerous work as you.”
“He prefers to leave the greatest danger to others.”
Amanda gave Rhys a hard stare. “He certainly has far more admiration for you than you do for him.” She stormed out of the room before Rhys could continue the argument.
Damn! The fear that Amanda might be developing feelings for that suave bastard made Rhys’s stomach twist. He would never have imagined Amanda being taken in by a suave, polished man like Farrington. Sure Farrington knew how to say all the right things no matter the social situation, but Amanda should see right though his fashionable exterior to the hard core underneath.
Rhys had imagined that Amanda preferred his own rough edges. She was hardly society’s darling. She and Rhys both preferred to do things their own way, even if they couldn’t agree on the parameters of their relationship. Was he a fool to think he could make her love him?
He picked up the glass of brandy Amanda had poured him after cleaning his wound, downed the contents and threw the crystal across the room. Echoes of the crash reverberated off the walls. He wished he could break Farrington as easily. The man was responsible for the deepest agony he’d ever felt, Rhys would not let Farrington cause him any more pain.
The bastard picked that moment to arrive. When he entered, Farrington’s gaze landed on the bits of crystal scattered about the carpet. “An unfortunate accident?” he asked, grinning.
Rhys scowled. Before he could think of a scathing reply, Amanda entered wearing a light blue gown his sister had dismissed as too pale for her coloring. On Amanda it looked superb despite the fact that it was a bit too short and too loose in the waist for Amanda’s tall, thin figure. At least it covered her decently.
“Good morning, Mrs. Stanton.” Farrington acknowledged her with a nod and emphasis on her new name.
Rhys watched her carefully as she greeted the other man, but she showed no particular interest in him. She gave Rhys an assessing look. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
She snorted. “You should lie down.”
Farrington raised his brows, but Rhys ignored his obvious curiosity. “I assure you I’ll rest after I’ve finished my conversation with Lord Farrington. Are you certain you would not be more content in the library?”
Amanda shook her head and took a seat in one of the upholstered chairs that flanked the sofa. Farrington settled himself across from her.
Unfortunately, Amanda had chosen a seat where she could see the remains of the broken snifter. “I thought I heard a crash. What happened?” Rhys deeply regretted his childish outburst. “Nothing. I’ll see that it’s cleaned up later.”
She frowned at him, but he began recounting the events of the last three days before she could speak again.
“Do you have any idea who Mouton is?” Farrington asked when Rhys had finished.
Rhys nodded. “Amanda and I believe he may be Walter Linton. Someone tried to follow us when we sought privacy at my uncle’s ball. We found a watch outside the room we’d retired to with Walter’s initials on the back. He’s taken pains to disguise himself, and Walter’s body was supposedly found in France, but I had a chance to study him closely over the last few days. He’s definitely wearing a wig and cosmetics to alter his appearance. The work is good, but it doesn’t hold up to fine scrutiny.” Farrington frowned. “Why would a no-account like Walter Linton have gotten mixed up with Les Centimes?”
Amanda spoke before Rhys had a chance. “He wants revenge on me and Rhys and my sister for ruining the business scheme he and Lord Reddington had established.” Rhys nodded. “He likely sought the power of Les Centimes to help him with his more personal goal.”
Farrington ran his hand through his hair. “A personal vendetta makes him even more dangerous, but less likely to be loyal to Les Centimes if things go awry. I think you’ve given us enough information to find him and d’Eglantine. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
Chapter Fourteen
With Farrington gone, Rhys wanted nothing more than to sweep Amanda into his arms, take her upstairs and ravish her. Perhaps if he overwhelmed her senses with pleasure he would make further progress on their relationship. At least they could coexist for a few hours without fighting.
But pain seared his arm and even he admitted he needed rest. His wound burned so hot he expected flames to leap from it. Amanda would never permit him to exhaust himself. He tried to push the pain from his mind, but a wave of dizziness hit as reached the stairs, and he had to grab the newel post.
Amanda took his arm. “Should I summon a footman to help you upstairs?” He straightened immediately, fighting back a harsh retort. The very idea. He could certainly manage to get to his bed without assistance. He held out his arm for her. “I am more than capable of getting to my room on my own power.” She took his arm, and he leaned on her more than he would have liked as they ascended to the second floor. His legs refused to cooperate, as if his bones had simply dissolved. He directed Amanda to the bedroom the servants had prepared for him and practically fell into bed.
He’d asked a servant to bring him a fresh shirt so he could struggle back into his clothes while Amanda had gone upstairs to change. Now he doubted he had the strength to undress. He dragged his hand over his eyes and took a deep breath, humiliated to show such weakness in front of Amanda.
She knelt by the side of the bed and tugged off his boots. When she’d removed them, she leaned over and worked at the buttons of his waistcoat, then pulled his shirt free of his waistband. He sat up enough to get them off while she loosened the buttons of his trousers.
He lay back against the pillows, out of breath from the simple act of sitting up. Still his body responded to the touch of Amanda’s fingers along his groin.
She looked up, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me you’re contemplating a repeat of what happened earlier.”
He smiled. “If it weren’t for my damned arm, I’d be doing more than contemplating.
A gentleman on death’s door couldn’t help responding to your touch.”
“I only want to get you dressed for bed. And you’re hardly a gentleman.” He laughed despite his weariness. “That may be so, but you cannot touch a man of any sort in such a fashion without expecting a response.”
“Then once you are well, you’ll have to satisfy my curiosity about the male body.” She smiled, looking far too much like a cat. His first instincts about her had been right.
She was a dangerous woman.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Having successfully loosened his trousers, she tugged at them, trying to pull them off. He lifted his hips to assist her, watching as she gazed longingly at his cock. He didn’t know whether to smile or weep. If only he had the strength to take her again.
Amanda realized he’d noticed her interest and turned away abruptly. She collected his clothes and laid them over the arm of a chair. “I don’t suppose you have a nightshirt stored here.”
He laughed. “Amanda, dear. I haven’t worn nightshirts since I left school.”
“Oh. Then I suppose you have everything you need.” She turned toward the door, keeping her gaze averted from his naked form. She was such a delightful combination of the innocence and temptation.
“Where do you think you are going?” he asked.
She turned and managed to gaze
only at his face. “To my room.”
“This is your room. You are my wife now, remember?”
“We just established that you need to sleep.” He groaned. His eyelids felt heavier with each breath. “That hardly precludes us from sharing a bed.”
“But I thought most married couples had separate rooms.”
“Some couples sleep separately. We will not. I have no intention of foregoing the feel of your warm body next to mine.”
“What if I prefer privacy?”
Rhys fought the urge to close his eyes and let sleep consume him. “You will come to understand the benefits of sharing. Besides, I could grow more ill in the night and have need of you.”
Amanda scowled. “That was a pathetic attempt to appeal to my concerns for you, but I will stay. Do allow me to retrieve a nightgown, though.”
“No. I want you naked.”
“But—”
“Amanda we’re married, and we were most thoroughly intimate mere hours ago.
There is no need to be missish.”
He knew his comment would get to her, and it did. She stripped off her dress and chemise with jerky motions and flung them on the chair with his clothes.
“If you insist on sharing the bed, then please move over to give me room.” With supreme effort, he scooted from the center of the bed to the far side. Pain raced up his arm with every movement, but it was well worth the agony to have her next to him.
Fortunately she’d chosen to lie on his good side, so he was able to pull her against him and place her head on his chest.
“You’re burning up. Are you sure I shouldn’t summon a doctor?”
“You are all I need,” he murmured as he slipped into sleep.
*
“No. Back away.”
Strong hands gripped Amanda’s shoulders, waking her instantly.
“We’ve got to go after them.”
A Persistant Attraction Page 19
