A tiny gasp sounded – not the sort wrought from pain or discomfort, not even the kind meant to push him away, but rather a pleasurable sound inviting him to continue. So he wound one arm round her back, securing her there while he deepened the kiss, just a little – just enough to sample her sweetness.
Her lips parted without hesitation, a soft throaty moan answered his advance, and Simon was lost – lost in the glorious flavor of her, in the dream he’d been having ever since they’d met, in the woman he craved more than his next breath.
His movements were unhurried and tender, a slow exploration intended to give her a sense of what he felt but could not express in any other way. Easing back, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, then to her cheeks, and finally to her forehead. Without a word, he swept her up into his arms and laid her carefully on the bed. Climbing in beside her, Simon pulled her securely against his chest and drew the eiderdown up around them both.
“Rest now,” he whispered.
She answered him by squeezing his hand.
The oil lamp’s glow lent a soft golden hue to the room the next time Ida woke. Unlike the previous time, Simon was there, right beside her. Propped on his side, he was gazing down at her when she opened her eyes. A smile curved his lips, reminding her of the kiss they’d shared right after he’d helped her get changed. It had been lovely. The rightness of it had made her knees a bit wobbly.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” he said while tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You’ve been asleep for almost twenty-four hours.”
She blinked. “Really?”
“I even had Redding come check on you earlier today to make sure you were still all right. He said you just needed rest.” He studied her for a moment. “I’ll have to change your bandage again, but I’m thinking you might be hungry. Would you like something to eat first?”
“I would appreciate that. Thank you.”
When he returned a short while later, Simon brought a selection of various fruits, a slice of kidney pie, and some roast chicken. Everything had been piled onto a much-too-small tray which he placed in the middle of the bed.
“You frightened the hell out of me,” he said once she’d had a few grapes and selected a chicken leg to munch on. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
“Me too. I think I was rather lucky.”
His eyes met hers with regret. “I’m so sorry, Ida. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
He looked like he wanted to argue the point. Instead he said, “Huntley has tried to find out who pushed you, but no one seems to have seen the culprit. No name has been mentioned, though I did see Elmwood on the stairs right before our carriage took off.”
“I didn’t even know he was at the ball. Perhaps he was just arriving.”
Simon sighed and selected an orange slice for himself. “Maybe, but we can’t afford to dismiss him.” He dropped his gaze to the mattress and frowned. “There’s something else. A note arrived at my home this morning – a warning to stay out of other people’s business.”
“Someone’s definitely rattled.”
“Yes. But I had hoped to gain a clearer indication of whom.”
So had she. Mr. Nugent had stormed off immediately after finding out who she was, and Kirksdale had refused to answer her questions. Ida glanced at Simon. Having finished her chicken, she cut a small sliver of pie, just to taste. “So where do we go from here?”
His fingers caught the edge of her chin. Leaning in, he gave her a swift kiss on the lips. “Nowhere, for the moment. You still need to get well.”
“Simon…”
He sighed. “I’ve a meeting with Mr. St. John the day after tomorrow. Probably a giant waste of time, but considering the story I gave Kirksdale about wanting to invest, I couldn’t refuse.” He shrugged and popped another orange slice into his mouth.
“I really don’t like that man. Mr. St. John. He made my skin crawl.”
“Hmm.” A frown appeared on Simon’s brow and his eyes darkened a fraction, but then he seemed to shake himself free of whatever unpleasant thoughts he’d been having. “Are you finished with the food?”
When she nodded, he removed the tray and set it on top of the chest of drawers.
“Let me take a look at your wound.” Just like before, he unwound the bandage and peeled back the compress, discarding the items so he could redress it with clean ones. “It’s healing nicely, Ida. There’s no blood like before, just a perfect scab. I’ll put on a clean compress and bandage to protect it.”
Once he was done tending to her and had cleaned up a bit, he removed his jacket and tossed it aside. Next, he began untying his cravat.
Ida gaped. “Um… Simon?”
