Billings chuckled, gathering up his things. “He will probably sleep for some time now. He might run a fever, though I doubt it. I will leave another dose of laudanum, should he require it. In any case he will need compresses for the swelling. I trust you can manage, Smitty?” He turned questioning eyes to the first mate.
Smitty nodded. “Most certainly.”
“Fine. Then I shall take my leave. I must see to the other injuries now.” He went to the doorway, then turned to Alex. “Thank you, my lady. You made a very fine nurse.”
Alex smiled. “Thank you for allowing me to stay, Doctor.”
He glanced at the bed, then back at Alex. “The captain wished it,” he replied. It was obvious to John Billings that the captain had feelings for Lady Alexandria. But those feelings were none of his business. He bade them good night, closing the door behind him.
“You are exhausted, my lady,” Smitty said gently. “Why not go to my cabin and rest. I can arrange for a hot bath for you. I don’t want you to become ill from staying in those wet clothes.”
Alex looked down at herself in surprise. She had completely forgotten about her own condition. She was drenched, her breeches were torn, and her shirt was covered with Drake’s blood.
“Oh …” she murmured, vaguely. “I am certainly disheveled, am I not?”
Smitty chuckled. “Go, my lady, before you catch a chill.”
Alex was too drained to argue.
The hot bath felt wonderful, as did the change of clothes. But despite her exhaustion, sleep would not come. She tossed and turned for hours, until lying there became unbearable. Finally she rose and made her way back to Drake’s cabin. Quietly she eased open the door so as not to disturb either man.
In the dim light she could see that Drake was tossing slightly in the bed, muttering unintelligible words. Beside the bed, Smitty dozed in a chair, unaware of his captain’s restlessness. Poor Smitty. He was absolutely spent. Alex gently touched his shoulder. At the contact Smitty’s eyes flew open.
“My lady? What is it?”
“Nothing, Smitty. All is well. I merely came to relieve you.”
His eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, my lady, that is not necessary.”
“I know it is not necessary, but you are positively exhausted. I am refreshed from my nap,” she lied. “Now it is time for you to go to your cabin and sleep. I will watch over your captain.”
Smitty glanced down at Drake, who was now perfectly still. Normally he would not have considered her suggestion, but every bone in his body was screaming for rest and the night was half over, without incident. Surely for a few hours he could leave his lordship in Lady Alexandria’s capable hands?
He sighed. “If he should stir, you will awaken me? If there is any problem …”
“There won’t be,” she stated firmly, already nudging Smitty to his feet. “Now go. You won’t be of any use to Captain Barrett tomorrow if you are exhausted. You will no doubt need all of your wits to combat his foul mood.”
Smitty smiled in spite of his fatigue. “You are quite right, my lady. I will take your kind suggestion. Thank you.”
Alex grinned as she closed the door behind Smitty. He was one of the kindest and most loyal human beings she had ever known. It must be wonderful to have someone in your life who cares so deeply for you, she mused. Drake is a lucky man.
She walked back to the bed and placed her hand on Drake’s forehead. It was cool to the touch; he had no fever. All was well. She sat down in the chair, staring off into space, daydreaming idly. The minutes ticked by and her eyelids became heavy. Her head drooped forward, the awkward movement causing her to come awake. Quickly she glanced down at the bed, but Drake had not moved. She stood, stretching from her cramped position. Her belt was beginning to cut into her flesh. It was certainly not meant to be slept in, nor were the oversize cuffed breeches. Longingly, she eyed Drake’s huge white shirt, which had been serving as her nightrail and now lay neatly folded on the chest.
Why not? she wondered. No one else was present, and anyway the garment was so big on her that it reached below her knees. It was much less immodest than a sheer nightrail. With that thought she swiftly shed her constrictive clothing and donned the billowy shirt. Then she curled up in the broad chair, placing her head against its back.
I’ll just rest, she assured herself. That is all.
Seconds later she was asleep.
Chapter 9
THE MOAN AWAKENED HER. Blinking, she tried to get her bearings. She was in her cabin, but for some reason she was not in bed. Another moan sounded just in front of her.
Drake. She was on her feet in an instant, leaning over the bed. He was sweating profusely, thrashing about in discomfort. Alex hurried to the basin and rinsed a cloth in cool water. Returning to the bedside, she bathed his face, murmuring softly to him.
Drake’s eyes opened, focused on her face. “Alexandria?”
“Yes, Drake, it’s me.”
“My head is throbbing.” The words were unclear, but Alex understood them.
“I know it is,” she soothed. “I’ll put a compress on to ease the swelling.” So saying, she gently pressed the damp cloth against his badly swollen head. Drake gritted his teeth but, after a moment, visibly relaxed.
She thought he had gone back to sleep when he suddenly said, “My mouth is so dry. Could you possibly …” He didn’t finish the sentence seeming to have forgotten what he’d asked for. But Alex was already filling his glass with water, making sure to add a few drops of laudanum.
“Here, drink this,” she coaxed, holding the water to his lips. She hadn’t the strength to raise him up, so she merely offered him a sip at a time. He seemed to understand, and after he had drunk his fill, he smiled.
“Thank you.” His brilliant green eyes were slightly dulled from the drug, but his words were coherent. He watched her place the glass on the desk, then return to his bedside.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked, seeing that he was still awake.
She looked so beautiful standing there, almost ethereal in her white shirt, with her delicate features framed by the cloud of tumbled, honey-colored hair. Perhaps the laudanum was making him silly. Still, the sudden surge of feeling was uncontrollable.
“Come here,” he murmured, patting the side of the bed.
Alex hesitated, but then realized he was barely conscious. Soon the medicine would take effect, causing him to drift off again. There was no harm in sitting with him for a moment.
His gaze was intense as she lowered herself to the bed. Slowly he lifted his hand and wrapped a tendril of her hair around it. “Have I told you how beautiful your hair is?” he asked in a husky voice. “It generates its own sunlight, sometimes soft and glowing, other times blazing with fire.” He reached up with his other hand to stroke her cheek. “When I opened my eyes and saw you here I wasn’t certain if I was awake or dreaming. You’ve filled my dreams so many nights … and whether my eyes are open or closed, it seems you are always there. Can you tell me why that is, my lovely Alexandria?”
Alex could barely breathe. Reason told her the drug was making him behave so strangely, but her body was responding wildly to his caressing words. She stared at him with wide, apprehensive eyes.
Drake gave her a slow, melting smile. “Don’t look so frightened, sweetheart. Surely by now you know I would never hurt you?” The hand that caressed her cheek slid around to stroke the nape of her neck. He was drowning in her eyes, which shone like flawless opals and spoke to him of need and want despite her mind’s ambivalence.
Alex felt him tug her head down, and she placed her hands against his chest, holding herself back. But who was she afraid of, she thought wildly, Drake or herself? How many times had she relived those moments in his arms, longed to repeat them?
Drake glanced down at her restraining hands. “Don’t,” he whispered, meeting her confused gaze once more. “Don’t stop me. God knows I fought it as hard as I could, but it’s no use. I want you,
Alexandria … God help me, I need you.”
He drew her down to him, covering her trembling mouth with his.
The moment their lips touched, wild flames erupted, licked along their nerve endings, and ignited an explosion that shook them to the very core of their beings. Tightening his grip on her back, Drake parted her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth in an act of undisputed possession.
There was never a question of denial. As much a prisoner of the overwhelming physical sensations as he, Alex capitulated completely to Drake’s unspoken demand. Her hands slid to his bare shoulders; her mouth moved with his in a kiss that took and gave and still wasn’t enough.
Drake tangled his hands in her hair, the pain in his skull minor compared to the unbearable ache in his groin. Nothing mattered now but putting out the fire that only this woman could ignite in him. Like a starving man, he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose. But always her mouth drew him back, and he drank from it. He wrapped his arms around her, flattening her against him, feeling her tense in his arms.
“No,” he commanded softly. “Don’t pull away.” He couldn’t let her go; he would explode with his need for her. He stroked her back through the barrier of the shirt, burying his lips in her hair. He wanted to tell her, to explain how badly he needed her. Determinedly he struggled to combat the inhibiting effects of the laudanum. “I need you,” he repeated. “Alex … please.”
He had never called her Alex before, and the name was like an endearment. She heard his plea, and it touched an answering voice inside of her. In a rush she melted against him, wanting to be absorbed into his power.
Drake felt her surrender and knew a sense of triumph that was staggering. Urgently, greedily, he took what was his. Her shirt had ridden up to her thighs, and he reached down to caress her bare legs. It still wasn’t enough. He slid his hands beneath the shirt, exploring the contours of her naked body. Her skin was like hot silk, her body coming to life beneath his seeking hands. He stroked the slender lines of her back, then moved around to cup her breasts in his palms. Alex trembled, then moaned softly as Drake circled her hardened nipples with his thumbs.
Her reaction nearly drove him over the edge. Beneath the blankets his body throbbed painfully, and he knew that he couldn’t wait much longer. It was a need like none he had ever known, defying description or reason. He slid his hands to her sides, then over her hips and down, defining the curves of her body with his fingertips. She whimpered, and he caught the sound with his mouth, savoring the taste of her as he urged her soft thighs apart.
“Alex, open to me,” he gasped into her mouth. “Please, sweetheart, let me touch you.”
Alex was dazed, drugged, submerged in her rampant newfound desire. Warring emotions tore at her mind and her heart—what she should do, what she wanted to do. … She tore her mouth from Drake’s, panting, gazing down into his eyes. This was wrong, so wrong, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength to deny him … to deny them.
Drake watched Alex’s inward struggle, so clear to him despite his mind’s fuzziness. She seemed terrified by her passion for him. But why? Had one of her previous lovers hurt her? Drake forced himself to stifle his own rampaging need, soberly watching her face.
“Alex?” he whispered, still caressing her exquisite body.
She closed her eyes tightly, her lips trembling with suppressed emotion.
A wave of tenderness swept over him. “Oh, Alex,” he murmured. “Could you really be as innocent as you seem?”
Her eyes flew open, and he saw his answer. “My God,” he breathed, relieved and thrilled in a way that unnerved him more than his passion did. Gently he smoothed the shirt down over her legs. “All right, princess,” he soothed her, seeing the apology on her face. “It’s all right.” For a long moment he continued to stare up at her, his expression unreadable. His thoughts and emotions converged into a pleasant haze as the laudanum finally won its battle over him. With a bit of surprise he became aware of the dull throbbing in his head, a pain that only moments ago he hadn’t even noticed.
Alex started to ease herself away from him, but Drake caught her wrists in his hands and frowned.
“Stay with me.” It was a tender command.
“But you need to rest,” she protested, her emotions still raw.
“And I will. But I want you with me. Please, princess. I promise not to touch you … at least not that way.” He grinned, stifling a yawn. “Besides, I fear that I am not … at my best.” His eyelids drooped. “So you’re safe,” he slurred, leaning back against the pillow.
Alex watched his handsome, chiseled features relax in sleep. His hands still held her wrists, but the grip was loose now, and she could easily withdraw if she wanted to. If she wanted to.
She paused for but a second. Then she cautiously lay down beside him, covering herself with the top blanket, careful to keep the other layers of bedcovers between their bodies. Her head was spinning from what had turned out to be the most turbulent day of her life.
The last thing Alex was aware of, before drifting off to sleep, was Drake’s strong arm drawing her close to him and pressing her head to his chest. And then … blissful oblivion.
Smitty paused for a moment outside the captain’s cabin. He could hear no sounds from within, and it occurred to him that the two occupants might be asleep. He hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea of disturbing them. On the one hand, Lady Alexandria needed her privacy, and Captain Barrett badly needed his rest. On the other hand, the captain’s injury needed to be treated.
In the end concern won out over discretion. Quietly he let himself into the semidark cabin and closed the door behind him. He was totally unprepared for the sight that met his eyes.
Together in the narrow bed, wrapped around each other and peacefully asleep, were Captain Barrett and Lady Alexandria.
Smitty had no time to react, no time to reverse his decision and make a hasty departure. At the sound of the door, Alex’-s eyes flew open and she found herself staring into his stunned face.
At first she had no idea why Smitty was gaping at her in such a peculiar manner or what he was doing in her cabin, for that matter. Then she became aware of the heavy weight of Drake’s arms around her, and the memories of the previous night came back in a rushing flood.
“Oh!” With a mortified gasp Alex snapped to a sitting position.
The sudden jolt startled Drake, and he stirred, blinking sleepily and looking around him. His head throbbed, and he wondered fleetingly if he had drunk too much brandy the night before. Then he dazedly focused on the disheveled beauty beside him and the highly embarrassed first mate in the doorway. And he, too, remembered.
He was still disoriented when Alex stepped from the bed, allowing the oversize shirt to billow out around her, and faced a speechless Smitty with as much dignity as she could muster.
“Smitty, could you check the hallway for me and make certain that it is deserted?” Her voice was high and shaky, but she kept her chin up and her gaze steady.
Smitty was thrilled to have a task that would divert his attention from the awkward situation.
“Of course, my lady.” He inched the door open a crack, peeping out into the hallway. “It is clear,” he confirmed. “The men are all working their morning shifts.”
“Thank you, Smitty.”
Without meeting Drake’s concerned gaze, Alex yanked the top blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her. Fighting the urge to break down and sob with utter shame, she gathered her discarded breeches and shirt, walked past Smitty, and left the cabin.
“Alexandria … damn!” Drake’s abrupt movement from the bed caused a blinding flash of pain to explode in his skull. He staggered about, feeling a wave of sickness rise up in his throat. Clutching his head, he sank back down, muttering one oath after the next.
Smitty helped Drake resume his position beneath the bedcovers. “Another movement like that and you will reopen your wound,” he cautioned him.
Through a haze of pain Drake g
lanced up at Smitty’s impassive expression. He was not fooled. Smitty was furious; his icy tone told Drake so. And his anger had little to do with the injury.
“Nothing happened, Smitty,” he heard himself say, with a wave of self-disgust. Why the hell was he explaining himself? What difference did it make what anyone thought? It never had before … but with Alex it was different.
Smitty gave him a cool, assessing look. “Apparently something happened, Captain. That child was visibly upset for some reason.”
“Damn it, Smitty, stop calling her a child! She’s a grown woman, for God’s sake!”
“So it would seem.”
Drake groaned at the censure in Smitty’s voice. “I was in pain. She got me some water and more laudanum. I asked her to sit with me. We must have fallen asleep. Obviously she was embarrassed by your appearance in the cabin.” He intentionally omitted the rest of the evening’s happenings. Smitty did not look convinced, but the older man said nothing further on the subject.
“You should eat something, Captain,” he suggested instead. “Food will help you regain your strength.”
Drake watched as Smitty made to leave. “Where are you going?”
Smitty turned. “To have a breakfast tray sent to your cabin.” Without hesitation he added, “And to check on Lady Alexandria. I want to see for myself that she is all right.”
Drake was suddenly and inexplicably furious. “I told you nothing happened!” he snapped, tossing the bedcovers off his naked body. “Would it satisfy you to check the sheets for proof of that child’s continued virginal state?”
Smitty was unmoved by the emerald fire blazing in Drake’s eyes. “There are ways, other than physical ones, for one person to hurt or heal another. Perhaps it is time you remembered that, my lord.” He, gave Drake a measured look and was gone.
Drake leaned back and sighed. He didn’t want to think about the meaning of Smitty’s words or dwell on the intentional use of his title. The sort of healing Smitty referred to was impossible for Drake to contemplate. Too many years had passed, too much had happened to reinforce his cynicism and lack of faith.