Page 37 of Sutherland's Secret
No, he wouldn’t. He could never do that to her.
He realized the guard was still standing in the middle of his bedchamber, looking at anything but him. “Tell Lady Eleanor that I wish to speak with her when she is finished eating.”
It seemed to Brice that the guard gulped audibly, but he nodded. “Yes, my lord.” Quickly he backed out of the room and shut the door behind him.
It seemed an interminably long time later that she came to him. “It’s about time,” he grumbled. “The meal ended ages ago.”
She sat on the chair and fluffed out her skirts. Brice squinted at her gown. It was an unusual gown, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.
“Did you bellow for me, my lord?”
“Brice.”
“Did you bellow for me, Brice?”
“I’m thirsty.”
She raised a brow, and he knew he was acting like a child. He didn’t understand why. He’d been injured before, and he’d never acted this way, but when he awoke and she was gone, he’d become…agitated.
She handed his mug to him. He looked at her for a moment before taking it from her and raising his head to drink.
“Better?” she asked when he was finished.
He nodded and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“How do you feel this morning?”
“Like hell. Where were ye?”
“In the great hall. Do you want to try to sit up?”
“Yes. The meal ended long ago. What were ye doing in the great hall?”
She stood to help him move to a sitting position. He could feel the stitches pull.
“I’ll have to change your bandages,” she said as she adjusted the pillow behind him.
He sighed as he leaned back and closed his eyes against the wave of pain. “What were ye doing in the great hall?”
“Eating.” She began unwrapping the bandage. “I need honey.”
“Honey? Did ye no’ eat enough at supper?”
“Your humor astounds me. Honey stops the wound from becoming putrid.”
He’d never heard of such a thing. “Why’d it take ye so long to come up here?”
“Sit up.”
He pushed himself up, groaning as he did so. “Damnation,” he breathed. “Did ye leave a dagger in the wound?”
“I can give you something for the pain.”
“Nay. It makes my head fuzzy. What were ye doing in the great hall?” Eleanor Hirst was not a good liar. There was something she wasn’t telling him, and he would have it before the day was over.
She lifted the padding and he tried to crick his neck to see the wound, but all he saw was the top of her head, and all he could smell was her floral scent. She was leaning against his arm, her breasts pressed against him, and all other thoughts fled his pain-wracked mind except the warm pressure of her soft breasts.
He groaned for an entirely different reason than she probably thought. There was a different pain now, centered between his legs, and throbbing far more than his shoulder. He shifted to hide his growing erection. Although she was facing him, he didn’t want her to see the bedclothes tented like that. If he had two good arms, he would wrap them around her and kiss her speechless. Instead he lay there like a helpless babe, his cock hurting so badly he had to breathe through clenched teeth.
