Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie by Samantha Grace

sunlight, and he couldn’t resist smoothing the mussed strands. “I must be. Here I’ve had you in my bed for days without tumbling you.”
    She smiled smugly. “Why do you think I am in your bed? You’re too weak.”
    “Is that so?” Daniel grasped her around the waist and rolled to haul her on top of him.
    Lisette gasped. “Monsieur, put me down. You need more rest.”
    His breath wheezed from the minimal exertion, so he complied with her command and settled her beside him again. But he didn’t release her from the circle of his arms. “Did you sleep well, luv? I didn’t wake you with my coughing, did I?”
    Her brow wrinkled as if searching her memory. “I don’t think you woke me even once, unlike two nights ago when you kept me awake with your silly chatter. Mon dieu. I never knew a man could be so enamored of an inanimate object.”
    “What did I say?”
    “Oh, nothing really,” she said, adopting a teasing tone, “besides the words of a lovesick fool. You put Romeo to shame.”
    He laughed. “Don’t tell me I spouted the stanzas of a love poem.”
    “Not unless someone has composed an ode to your ship.”
    Daniel’s smile faded. He was uncertain he wanted to hear the rest.
    “You kept calling out, ‘Cecily, I love you’ and mumbling something about being sorry. I knew you loved the sea, but that was a bit overboard .” Lisette lifted an eyebrow in jest.
    “I must have been out of my mind with the fever.”
    He released her and tried to turn away, but Lisette’s slender fingers closed around his shoulder. “Daniel, what is it?”
    The tender concern in her voice was real. He had been the recipient of her compassionate care for too many days to fool himself into believing she feigned the emotion. He rolled to his back and trained his gaze to the ceiling of wooden planks.
    Lisette rose to her elbow, her dark hair falling like a silken scarf over her shoulder. Her jewel-toned eyes roamed his face and she smiled sadly. “Cecily isn’t just your ship. You named her after a woman.”
    He experienced a familiar tightening in his chest, as if caught in a vise that might crush him.
    She caressed his cheek. The tips of her fingers grazing his skin possessed the power to ease the pain in his core, if not the pain of his conscience. “You may tell me of your love for her, if you wish.”
    He captured her hand and pressed a deep kiss to the palm. No longer was he certain of his love for Cecily. More and more, he felt the frustration of their encounters, her tantrums and indictments. But Cecily had been right in her accusations. If he had never bedded her, her parents wouldn’t have forced them to marry.
    “Daniel?”
    He looked into Lisette’s guileless eyes. “Cecily was my wife. She died onboard five years ago. We hadn’t been married long.”
    “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I had no idea, or I wouldn’t have teased you.”
    He hugged her close. “I know, Lisette. You haven’t a mean bone in your body.”
    She snuggled her cheek against his chest and sighed. Desire stirred inside him, building as she lingered in his embrace. His hands skimmed over her back, stopping before caressing over her bottom. Lisette didn’t resist him, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to take her. Having relations with him now would be nothing more than an act of mercy. He had heard the pity in her voice.
    He patted her bottom once and released her. “I could use some water.”
    “I will have one of the men bring more.” She climbed from the bed and grabbed the bucket before disappearing through the doorway.
    While she was gone, he sat up on the side of the bed. The instant he stood, his legs threatened to fold up on him. Egads! He couldn’t recall ever being this unsteady, even in the days before he had acquired his sea legs.
    Why had he spoken of his wife to Lisette? He had never even told his family he had married. There had been no point. Cecily had been gone for weeks by the time his ship reached