“And it was fate that my fist sealed the deal then?” William grunted, then threw back half his drink in one gulp. The burn feltlike a pittance in contrast to the scorch of guilt in his breastbone. “I must be cursed.”
“No,” Colin muttered. “Believe me, he was gone before you touched him.”
They did not understand—they would never understand what it meant to deliver death to someone, the moment the light left their eyes. He swallowed the rest of his drink and pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes as he tried to shut out the memory.
“I need time to digest this,” William mumbled.
“Well,” Colin sighed, “if you’re going to drink, we’ll join you. We’re not letting you go through this alone, old boy.”
Andrew called the waiting girl over and requested his drink, then turned to William. “We’ll be right here, William. We’re not going anywhere.”
It was somewhere in the early hours of the morning she heard the familiar tread of boots over the corridor, and they paused right before her door. She waited—and then heard the other door open.
He is home then.
After a moment, she turned on her side and set her back to the door, deciding to speak with him in the morning.
Suddenly, there was a loud stumble and she spun around, ready to leap into action if William fell—but heard him continue into his room without a collapse.
Maybe he misstepped.
By morning, she was up and washing in the basin, her stomach twisting at knowing by noon, she would be a married woman.
Clad in her best robe, she left her chambers to find the breakfast room—that doubled as a supper room—but found William’s door ajar. Had he left it open last night?
And that was when she heard the noise. A faint splash. From the bathing room.
I should go. Leave him to his privacy.
She intended to head to the breakfast room—but her feet fell rooted at his door. After a long moment, instead of heading off, she entered his room, feeling oddly like she was trespassing, when she had not felt that way last night.
Nearing the open door of the bathing chamber, she felt the warm wisps of citrus-scented steam drifting out and the gentle lap of water drew her closer.
William was lying in the large copper tub while a fire crackled in the hearth behind him. From her vantage point, she could see his side profile, his dark, wet hair pushed back from his chiseled face. His eyes were closed, his head resting against the back lip of the tub…
Oh my goodness.Her heart shot into her throat.
Dear Lord in Heaven—purple bruises darkened one of his perfect cheekbones, he had a split lip and a blackening eye. His long eyelashes lay in shadowed crescents against his pale skin, and dark stubble covered his jaw.
Even while injured, he was beautiful.
Perhapsbeautifulwas the wrong word. Elegant. Dangerous. Unpredictable… but still beautiful.
Silently, she breezed through the open door and made her way toward him. Slowly, she knelt beside his prone figure, her heart lurching at the sight of dried blood clinging to his left temple.
“William, oh God… William, what happened?”
Had he gotten into a brawl? Had he been mugged?
With tender care, she plucked a rag from a nearby rack and wiped the towel gently over his damaged temple. “William? Are you conscious? Please… answer me.”
CHAPTER 20
His eyes flitted open and the depths of the blue mesmerized her for a moment before a corner of his lips curled. Quick as lightning, he grasped her and hauled her into the tub as if she weighed nothing.
Soaked right through, she barely had a moment to gasp when his mouth was on hers; the kiss was hot, heady, spiced with brandy and desire. When his tongue stroked the seam of her mouth, she let him in eagerly, his masculine flavor saturating her senses.
His mouth left hers to explore her cheeks and jaw. When he found the rim of her ear, she shivered, squirming as his tongue investigated the delicate shell. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he licked the sensitive lobe, then suckled upon it.
