supplies?” Meadows asked when they were settled.
Rhys shook his head and waved his hand to dismiss the man. Meadows opened his mouth as if to say something else. Instead, he shook his head and turned to go.
Amanda wasn’t going to let Rhys play the stoic hero. “Meadows, please bring something to clean Mr. Stanton’s wound and some bandages.”
“Yes, miss.” The valet bowed in her direction.
“Damn insolent man,” Rhys muttered. He looked at Amanda with flames of anger in his eyes. “And you. You’re even worse. Why the hell didn’t you run for the hack when I told you to?”
Amanda said nothing, clenching her fists to keep angry words from exploding out of her mouth. She wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of his deceit and demand to know why the men were after him and not her. But stupidly, she cared enough about him to want to see his wound tended before she started railing at him.
Rhys ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “Next time I go out, you will remain locked in your bedroom. I’ll tie you to the bed if I must to keep you there. What makes you so determined to put yourself in the greatest danger possible?”
She started to speak but he held up his hand. “No, please, don’t answer that.”
“You’re the one who got stabbed, not me.”
She knew that would provoke him, but she liked seeing color rush to his cheeks.
He’d grown frightfully pale.
The blue of his eyes turned to midnight. She’d never seen him look so intense before.
Her heart pounded against her chest. “I have sworn to protect you. If I die in the process, then so be it. If you die, then I have failed again.” His words sent shivers through Amanda. Why was he so willing to die for her? And what had he meant by failing again ? She wanted to ask, but Meadows returned with the supplies she’d requested.
Rhys didn’t acknowledge his valet’s presence, but she thanked him and told him they had all they required for the moment. She knelt in front of Rhys, setting the tray of medical supplies on the floor beside her.
He grabbed her hand when she reached for his shirt, but she pulled free. “I’m going to see to your wound whether you like it or not. It will be easier on both of us if you cooperate.”
He let her go and leaned his head back against the chair. His body relaxed completely and for a moment she feared he’d fainted. She could think of no other reason he’d surrender so easily.
“Rhys?” she called tentatively.
He opened his eyes a bit. “Get on with it.” His voice was eerily calm.
Amanda considered her options. She was a bit daunted at the prospect of removing a man’s shirt. She’d undressed Rhys the night before in her dream, but they’d both been in the heat of passion. There was no heat now. He was cold and still, and his shirt was soaked with blood. Her hands shook from fear of what she would find underneath.
Pulling the shirt loose from his tight trousers proved harder than she’d expected.
After a few attempts, she’d still not gotten it free of his waistband. She didn’t want to hurt him, but the thought of loosening his trousers was more than she could manage. Why the devil couldn’t he be more helpful?
He opened his eyes and peeked at her. “Difficulties?” he asked with the closet thing to a smile she’d seen on his face all night.
“If you would simply lift your shirt, I would be able to clean the wound.”
“Yes, but you see, I don’t want you to clean the wound. I want to send you home so I can get some sleep.”
“I’m not leaving until I’ve seen how badly you are injured.”
“Then you are going to have to figure out how to do that on your own.” Amanda scowled. “You are the most insufferable, arrogant man I’ve ever met. I’m trying to help you though I don’t know why.” He lifted his hand and let his fingers trail down her cheek. “Perhaps you’ve grown more fond of me than you wished.”
A warm, languid
Rhys shook his head and waved his hand to dismiss the man. Meadows opened his mouth as if to say something else. Instead, he shook his head and turned to go.
Amanda wasn’t going to let Rhys play the stoic hero. “Meadows, please bring something to clean Mr. Stanton’s wound and some bandages.”
“Yes, miss.” The valet bowed in her direction.
“Damn insolent man,” Rhys muttered. He looked at Amanda with flames of anger in his eyes. “And you. You’re even worse. Why the hell didn’t you run for the hack when I told you to?”
Amanda said nothing, clenching her fists to keep angry words from exploding out of her mouth. She wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of his deceit and demand to know why the men were after him and not her. But stupidly, she cared enough about him to want to see his wound tended before she started railing at him.
Rhys ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “Next time I go out, you will remain locked in your bedroom. I’ll tie you to the bed if I must to keep you there. What makes you so determined to put yourself in the greatest danger possible?”
She started to speak but he held up his hand. “No, please, don’t answer that.”
“You’re the one who got stabbed, not me.”
She knew that would provoke him, but she liked seeing color rush to his cheeks.
He’d grown frightfully pale.
The blue of his eyes turned to midnight. She’d never seen him look so intense before.
Her heart pounded against her chest. “I have sworn to protect you. If I die in the process, then so be it. If you die, then I have failed again.” His words sent shivers through Amanda. Why was he so willing to die for her? And what had he meant by failing again ? She wanted to ask, but Meadows returned with the supplies she’d requested.
Rhys didn’t acknowledge his valet’s presence, but she thanked him and told him they had all they required for the moment. She knelt in front of Rhys, setting the tray of medical supplies on the floor beside her.
He grabbed her hand when she reached for his shirt, but she pulled free. “I’m going to see to your wound whether you like it or not. It will be easier on both of us if you cooperate.”
He let her go and leaned his head back against the chair. His body relaxed completely and for a moment she feared he’d fainted. She could think of no other reason he’d surrender so easily.
“Rhys?” she called tentatively.
He opened his eyes a bit. “Get on with it.” His voice was eerily calm.
Amanda considered her options. She was a bit daunted at the prospect of removing a man’s shirt. She’d undressed Rhys the night before in her dream, but they’d both been in the heat of passion. There was no heat now. He was cold and still, and his shirt was soaked with blood. Her hands shook from fear of what she would find underneath.
Pulling the shirt loose from his tight trousers proved harder than she’d expected.
After a few attempts, she’d still not gotten it free of his waistband. She didn’t want to hurt him, but the thought of loosening his trousers was more than she could manage. Why the devil couldn’t he be more helpful?
He opened his eyes and peeked at her. “Difficulties?” he asked with the closet thing to a smile she’d seen on his face all night.
“If you would simply lift your shirt, I would be able to clean the wound.”
“Yes, but you see, I don’t want you to clean the wound. I want to send you home so I can get some sleep.”
“I’m not leaving until I’ve seen how badly you are injured.”
“Then you are going to have to figure out how to do that on your own.” Amanda scowled. “You are the most insufferable, arrogant man I’ve ever met. I’m trying to help you though I don’t know why.” He lifted his hand and let his fingers trail down her cheek. “Perhaps you’ve grown more fond of me than you wished.”
A warm, languid
Similar Books
