“Ah, he’s awake!” Alice’s cheerful voice broke the silence as she entered the room. Her apron was dusted with flour and herbs, and her eyes lit up when she saw Alexander. “Good to see ye still breathin’, Me Laird.”
“Barely, thanks to Helena playin’ nursemaid,” Alexander grumbled.
Helena shot him a warning look but didn’t stop wrapping the fresh bandage around his ribs. “He’s bein’ difficult, as usual,” she scoffed.
Alice chuckled, stepping closer to inspect Helena’s work. “Ye’re in good hands, Alexander. She’s done a fine job.”
“She shouldnae have to,” Alexander argued, shifting uncomfortably. “She needs her rest.”
“I’m nae leavin’ ye,” Helena said firmly, tying off the bandage with a sharp tug. “So ye’d best get used to it.”
Alice clapped her hands together. “Well, now that it’s settled, I’ll send for breakfast. Ye’ll need yer strength. And Michael will be up shortly to give ye a report about the other soldiers.”
Alexander inclined his head, though his lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Bring more whisky while ye’re at it.”
Alice laughed, shaking her head. “Ye’re a stubborn man, Alexander. I’ll see what I can do.” She turned to Helena with an approving nod. “Keep him in bed, lass. He’s nae as tough as he thinks.”
Helena couldn’t help but smile as Alice left the room. She turned back to Alexander, who was watching her with a bemused expression.
“I’ll fetch ye a clean shirt,” she said, moving toward the trunk at the foot of the bed.
“I can manage,” he said, beginning to rise.
Before he could get far, Helena was at his side, pressing her hands to his shoulders and forcing him back down. “Ye’ll do nay such thing. Ye cannae risk tearin’ open the wound.”
The sheer defiance in his gaze was almost amusing, but instead of retorting, his hands shot up, gripping her waist and pulling her onto his lap.
“Alexander!” she gasped, her cheeks flushing as she stared at him in shock.
He smirked, his voice low and teasing. “If I’m goin’ to be stuck in bed, I’d rather have ye here with me.”
Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, firm and demanding. Her initial surprise melted away as she kissed him back, her hands sliding up his chest as her heart rate quickened.
He growled against her mouth when her fingertips brushed the tufts of hair on his chest, and she felt his hands slide down her hips and around her backside. She could feel his length twitching under her as she leaned into the kiss and rolled her hips. It was so warm, and she purred against his parted lips, her tongue sliding over his.
He pulled back suddenly, and her eyes opened slowly to meet his.
Alexander’s gaze was dark and heated. “Stay,” he murmured huskily.
Before she could form a reply, the door burst open, and Felicia rushed in, her face pale and frantic.
“Alexander!” she cried, her wide eyes darting to Helena. “Ye shouldnae be sittin’ on his lap if he’s injured!”
“Mind yer words, Felicia,” Alexander ordered, his tone strict, holding Helena firmly. “She’s me wife—speak to her with respect.”
Felicia scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Ye shouldnae be movin’ at all! Alice should be here to look after ye.”
Helena bristled at the younger woman’s tone but forced herself to remain calm. “Alice is teachin’ me, and I’ll stay by his side. He’s me husband, after all.”
Felicia’s eyes darted between them, her expression a cross between skepticism and frustration.
“Fine,” she muttered, her tone sharp. “But I’ll be visitin’ often.”
With that, she stormed out of the room, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.
Alexander sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, still holding Helena.
“She means well,” he said, though his grimace suggested otherwise. “But her disrespect, her childishness…”
