All her pounds, painfully stashed aside, had been for nothing. The idea of asking yet another favour of Ethan didn’t thrill her. Dash it, he’d given her his own blood. What more could she ask of him? If she stayed at Ethan’s house, she would bring onlytrouble to his door. He didn’t deserve that. Maybe it was the shock of having been shot at or the exhaustion that had never left her since the transfusion, but thinking was difficult.
The firm knock on the door could come only from Ethan. “Cora? May I come in?”
She pulled the blanket up although there was nothing of her he hadn’t already seen. “Come in.”
His figure filled the doorframe, and when he approached the bed, he towered over her. Again she wondered why his broad shoulders and massive body didn’t threaten her. She could trust him, certainly on medical matters and on keeping David and her safe. But as for other affairs, she wasn’t ready to trust any man, no matter how kind and gentle he was. She’d made that mistake, and it’d almost cost her life. She wouldn’t make it again. Her instinct told her Ethan was different, but her instinct had been wrong before.
He carried a tray of potions and bandages. “How do you feel today?” He placed the tray on the nightstand, pushing aside the bottles of drugs and disinfectant.
The smell of carbolic acid would probably be lodged in her nostrils forever, but Ethan’s hearty scent reached her senses all the same.
She sagged on the pillows. “I feel sore. Tired. The shoulder burns as well, more than yesterday.”
“Let me check your temperature.” He touched her forehead.
His rough skin chafed hers a little, but in a pleasant fashion if it made sense. Their gazes met and locked like two pieces of a puzzle. Hot turmoil swirled in the depths of his eyes, but she couldn’t understand what type. A stirring started in her chest the longer he stared at her. He broke eye contact before she could examine her reaction more closely.
“No fever. Excellent,” he said, touching the sides of her neck. There was something soothing in the way he cradled her head. “Ihave a light potion of morphia that will help with the pain, but you must eat before taking it and never take it more than twice a day.”
“I won’t.”
He shifted his weight, avoiding gazing at her. His uneasiness gave him away. She knew what was coming. The usual change of the bandages. She wondered if the practice was more embarrassing for him than for her. He was the first man who had seen her naked aside from Jacob, but he had also treated her with respect, and that made the whole difference. As for her, she couldn’t deny she felt self-conscious, but her body didn’t matter to her right now.
He coughed politely but didn’t say anything. She ought to put him out of his misery.
“You may proceed,” she said, fighting the odd urge to stroke his rough knuckles. “I understand it’s important to keep the wound clean.”
He kept his gaze on the floor. “Mrs. Parker refuses to deal with blood and wounds. I’m afraid she’ll faint before doing anything useful. I don’t trust any of the maids to do a good job. None of them is experienced. But I can find a nurse who won’t betray us.”
“Ethan.” She straightened as much as the bandages allowed. “It’s all right. I don’t mind.” She was beyond caring for her modesty. Jacob had used her body when he’d wanted to, and Ethan had proven to be a gentleman.
Ethan scratched the back of his neck. “Very well.”
She started undoing the buttons of her nightgown, but the movement sent a shot of pain down her body. A muffled whimper escaped from her. “Yes, I’m definitely worse than yesterday. I’m afraid you’ll have to do the undressing.”
His eyes widened in shock, but he recovered his composure in a moment. “Right.”
He unfastened the remaining buttons and helped her pull her arms out of the sleeves. He lowered the nightgown to her waist. The bandages crossed her chest and covered her shoulder and breasts but left her neck bare, thank goodness. He gently unravelled the bandages, frowning in concentration.
She couldn’t avert her gaze from him. The lines of his face tightened in a harsh expression enhancing his green eyes. She searched for something, a slight twitch of his muscles that might betray his thoughts and waited for a lewd remark, but he never did or said anything. He remained stoic and serious. He lowered his gaze again when the bandage was gone and she sat half-naked in front of him, her full breasts on display. Now a hint of self-doubt caused her cheeks to flame. Since she’d breastfed David, her breasts had grown heavy and lost their firmness. Oddly enough, she’d never cared about that until now. He soaked a cloth in carbolic acid. She braced herself for the sting.
“I diluted it,” he said, “since there isn’t any sign of infection. It shouldn’t sting as much as before.”
She pressed her lips, ready for the pain. He dabbed the wound gently without applying too much pressure. Yes, the potion didn’t burn as much as yesterday, but she had to draw in a deep breath to ease the tension. The wound was right over her nipple, and the skin was particularly sensitive there. He cleaned the wound on her back, the hole from where the bullet had exited. She still had to decide which side hurt the most. He was so close that his warmth caressed her skin. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had treated her with such kindness.
“Please lie down,” he said, wiping his hands.
“Gladly.” She exhaled when she reclined on the pillow.
“May I examine you?” Again, he didn’t look at her.
“Please.”
He touched her, starting with her arm on the side of the wound. The pads of his fingers pressed and probed her stiff muscles. “You’re very tense. Is it me or the pain?”
“The pain, mostly.” Although she couldn’t say his touch was painful. Quite the opposite. In a way, it relaxed her and embarrassed her a little.
He went up to her sore shoulder and probed her collarbone. She couldn’t suppress a whimper.
