Pink lingered in her countenance, but she busied herself with motion, as always. Caro was often a blur as she flitted from one task to the next. She never sat. Nor was she still. She was always, forever, moving. And as someone who had been stricken with great difficulty when it came to his own movement, he appreciated it all the more. She was something akin to a butterfly, beautiful and bold, flying about him.
He would never catch her.
“You will remain here until you are well enough to go,” she told him curtly as she tidied the assortment of tinctures and vials on the table at his side. “I have another place to sleep which suits me fine.”
“I do not like your keeping me a secret from your family,” he groused. “You must stop doing so.”
Her smile was small, almost wistful. “You do not know my brothers. If you did, you would be thankful for this respite. Eat now, lest your food grow cold.”
What choice had he? He lifted his fork and began to devour the plate she had brought him, trying his utmost to distract himself from unworthy thoughts. Thoughts that involved hauling her across his lap, sending the tray to the floor, and kissing her breathless.
“You must tell your brothers soon, Caro.”
The firm, low edict of her patient hit her.
She stiffened, turning back to him, distracted from her task of tidying the bedside table with its assorted tinctures and vials. The wickedly handsome, green-eyed stranger Caro had saved from the alley behind The Sinner’s Palace was a man she had not previously met. But he was one she had heard of on many occasions.
Living in the East End, a Sutton, ever aware of her family’s greatest foes—the wicked Winters—how could she not? Oh, it had taken some days for his bruises to abate. For the swelling and the discoloration—blue to purple to green—to subside. But once it had, the truth had been impossible to ignore, just as his identity was.
“I will tell them when the time is right and you are well enough to face them,” she assured him gently, hating herself for perpetuating the lie, although she knew she must.
In truth, her eldest brother, Jasper, had discovered her secret within hours of the man’s arrival at The Sinner’s Palace. As her brother Rafe was fond of saying, not even a mouse could fart in their gaming hell without Jasper being aware of it.
Jasper had taken one look at her mysterious stranger after he had discovered her secret and had recognized him.
“Gavin Winter, as I live and breathe,” Jasper had muttered upon viewing her sleeping patient. “Of all the fucking luck.”
Her heart had sunk, for she had already developed a bond with the man she had found bruised, bloodied, shot, and beaten nearly to death that day.
“We must tell the Winters then,” she had reluctantly acknowledged. “They will be wondering where he is, worrying over him.”
“Not yet,” Jasper had countered with the devil’s own grin. “Give me some time, Caro, whilst I decide what’s best.”
Caro shook herself from the memory and surveyed Gavin now. He was diabolically handsome, even bruised and battered. It was said he was stronger than a giant, and he certainly possessed the height and size to convince her of the veracity of the words. Though it was difficult to think her gentle patient capable of such feats now, he was London’s greatest prizefighter, a man who had defeated all the opponents he had faced with his fists.
A man she was deceiving. Their every interaction was a betrayal, each day cutting deeper than the last. She shuddered to think of what would happen if he ever discovered the truth.
“I am not afraid to face your brothers now, if you will allow it,” Gavin told her, before forking some eggs into his mouth.
His appetite had returned, which was an excellent sign. He had nearly consumed the entire plate she had brought for him. The sight of him, color in his cheeks, his body on the mend, heartened her.
Unbidden, the sight which had greeted her upon her entrance to the chamber rose in her mind. His chest was broad and lightly covered in whorls of dark hair, so much more beautiful now that he was moving and filled with life than when he had been bedridden and still. His abdomen was flat and well-defined with cords of muscle. His legs were long. But it had been another portion of his anatomy which had stolen her gaze and forced the heat into her face and the tingling low in her belly.
If Jasper or the rest of her brothers found out she had seen Gavin Winter naked as the day he was born, and that she had seen his cock, they would be furious. And furious Suttons… Well, they were decidedly dangerous. She would not wish her irate brothers upon her worst enemy, let alone Gavin.
Heavens, her ears were going hot, and so was the rest of her, just from recalling how splendidly formed the man was.
“You cannot face them just now,” she forced herself to say, before turning back to the bedside table and pretending to tidy once more.
It was easier to look at bottles and ointments than it was to watch Gavin Winter eat his breakfast. Partially because the bedclothes had slipped low on his waist once more. Partially because she did not want him to see her discomfiture, which was caused by a combination of the effect he had upon her and the lies she was telling him.
“Then have a seat, at the very least, if you’ll not allow me to speak to them. I’ll not have you going about the room, righting the mess I have made, when it is your own. To say nothing of the manner in which I have overtaken your rooms. There is a word for this, I believe. A right fancy one. Begins with a u…”
“Usurping,” she finished for him, and quite easily, too.
Jasper, as the eldest, had seen all their siblings educated when their finances had finally allowed for the expense. Caro had an affinity for the medicinal and for words both.
“Yes,” he agreed. “That is the bloody one. I’ll not keep you from your bed any longer.”
Reluctantly, she turned back to face him, trying her utmost to keep her gaze upon his face instead of all the masculine skin revealed to her.
“But have you anywhere else to go?” she pressed, hating herself as she asked the question.
She offered it for the sake of her conscience. If Gavin Winter recalled who he was, then she could happily return him to where he belonged. She would have no other choice, and her brother Jasper would have to accept it, regardless of what it cost him.
However, if Gavin’s brain remained muddled …if his memory continued to elude him, then there was no recourse save one. The one in which she already found herself hopelessly embroiled, torn between loyalty to her family and her growing feelings for Gavin. Despite the shame threatening to eat her alive, she could not deny she enjoyed having Gavin here. That she enjoyed tending to him, becoming acquainted with him.
And worse, that she was attracted to him.
His blank countenance at her query had her guilt rising once more.
“If I do have anywhere else to go, I cannot recall it,” he told her around a mouthful of bacon. “But that is neither here nor there. I’ll go wherever and whenever you wish. I owe you so much. More than I will ever be able to repay you, Caro.”
His words were akin to the prick of a knife, scoring her skin, digging into her heart.
She had found him, it was true. And she had brought him into The Sinner’s Palace and seen him tended to, his wounds cleaned and sewn shut and bandaged. However, nothing that had happened after her innocent rescue of him was worthy of Gavin Winter’s gratitude.
“You needn’t repay me,” she denied, fidgeting with the skirt of her gown.
When her fingers could not be busy, they did not know what to do with themselves.
“But I must, Caro.”
His emerald gaze called to hers, and she met it, hating the earnest tone in his voice, the absolute lack of deception.
“If you truly wish to repay me, then you will cease arguing,” she said. “I insist you need some additional time to rest and regain your strength. I am staying in another chamber, one which has not been in use in some time. You needn’t worry you keep
me from my bed.”
The memory of the brother who had occupied the chamber she was currently inhabiting made her heart give a pang. Logan’s disappearance had left a great deal of pain behind. Many nights spent wondering where he had gone and what had befallen him. After a year had passed, she and her siblings had been forced to accept their brother would not be returning.
Logan’s chamber had been closed ever since he had vanished, but thanks to the size of their family, it was the only spare room in the private apartments over The Sinner’s Palace. It was also on the highest floor, which was why Caro had chosen to take over the room herself. Carrying Gavin to her chamber had required far fewer steps for the guards who had hauled him from the alley on her behalf. Given the closeness of their family, it was nothing short of a small miracle that she and Jasper had managed to keep Gavin’s presence a secret for as long as they had.
Gavin finished his breakfast and used a napkin on his mouth.
To Caro’s shame, her gaze was drawn there, to his lips. She found herself wondering what they would feel like moving over hers. And then she reminded herself why she should never allow such a longing to take hold.
The reasons were many.
“I cannot deny I enjoy being in your bed,” that wicked mouth of his said.
Bloody blue blazes.
She was hot once more, and she could not deny the answering ache between her thighs.
“Mr.—” She cut herself off abruptly, realizing that in her dudgeon, she had been about to call him Mr. Winter when she was not supposed to know his name. “Sir.”
“Begging your pardon, Caro.” Gavin flushed—his neck going red along with the tips of his ears. “I… Hell. A man wakes up with no memory and no manners, it would seem. I hope I ain’t a scoundrel. I didn’t mean to blurt that as I did, although it’s true.”
Oh, how it pained her to keep his identity from him. She was going to have to speak with Jasper, and soon.
“You needn’t fret over it,” she hastened to assure him. “After the blows you took to the head, it is a miracle you are alive.”
“You didn’t like when I said what I did,” he observed.
How wrong he was. She had liked it far too much, and that was the problem.
Her fingers, still bereft of an occupation, clenched on the light muslin of her gown. “You surprised me.”
“Shocked you.”
Pleased me.
She cleared her throat. “Regardless of the sentiment, you needn’t worry yourself on my account. Have you finished eating?”
The longer she lingered here with Gavin, that powerful chest of his on display, those emerald eyes glinting into hers, his low voice teasing and flirtatious and like a balm upon her tattered heart, the more dangerous it was for the both of them. She was deceiving this man, and Winters were the enemy, despite the fragile truce which had been recently struck between their families. Moreover, her brothers were incredibly protective of her after what had happened with Philip.
You’ve landed yourself in enough trouble because of one man, Caro Sutton, she told herself sternly. No need to make it two.
“I have finished,” he said, shaking her from her tumultuous thoughts. “Breakfast was delicious, thank you.”
How polite he was, aside from his flirtatious ways. She wondered if he was always thus. From her reading, she understood that blows to the head could cause all manner of reactions. Mayhap she would need to make some discreet inquiries and discover whether or not Gavin Winter was a rake and a scoundrel. If he was, avoiding him would be so much easier. And the defenses she was struggling to keep around herself would be far stronger. Taller. Hell, after Philip, they would be insurmountable.
She moved nearer to him, taking the tray, trying not to stare at his chest but to focus instead upon his wound. “It is healing nicely. Have you soreness?”
He tentatively moved his arm. She would need to snip the stitches soon. A day or two, no more, from her assessment of the time that had passed.
“I feel as if I have known worse pain,” he said. “I shall live.”
She suspected he had, after the fights he had fought and won. “I am glad of it. That you shall live, of course. Not that you may have suffered worse in the past.”
“You have a good heart, Caro.” His gaze was earnest upon hers.
She had to look away, to break the connection. “Is there anything else you will be needing?”
“Some fresh water in the pitcher when it can be had would be lovely,” he said.
And then a strange expression overtook his handsome face.
“What is the matter?” she asked, thinking he was experiencing some sudden pain to which she must tend.
“I don’t think I would say lovely. Feels odd.” He frowned.
Oh, how she hated herself. She did not know what manner of phrasing he would have chosen, but she did know who he was.
“I will see that Randall brings you some fresh water,” she said instead of giving voice to any of the emotions truly plaguing her. “I shall check on you later, sir.”
With that, she hurried from the chamber.
Chapter 2
Caro went to the kitchens first, returning the empty tray she had taken to Gavin. But she did not linger, as she ordinarily was wont to do, chatting with the cantankerous chef, who always beamed when he saw her. Instead, she left, on a mission, not stopping until she burst through the door of her eldest brother’s office.
As the leader of the Sutton clan, he oversaw the daily operations of The Sinner’s Palace. But they each had their part in the running of their small empire. And she was about to remind him of hers.
Her brother’s head was lowered, and he was poring over something on his desk when she stalked toward him.
“Caro,” he greeted when he looked up, rising to his feet from behind his desk with the massive, carved lion legs. “How is our forgetful patient?”
“I cannot keep the truth from him for much longer, Jasper,” she blurted. “It is unfair, not just to Gavin, but to me as well.”
Jasper quirked a dark brow and stroked his jaw. “Gavin is he? That is just a bit too familiar, do you not think, sister?”
His unspoken words were heavy between them. Considering what had happened with Philip, he may as well have said. She was glad he had not, for it did not require her to discuss that spineless horse’s arse. Bad enough he had almost deceived her into marrying him; her discovery that he had been bedding one of the ladybirds at The Sinner’s Palace was a pain she had no wish to revisit.
Caro was more than happy to turn her attention toward the far more important matter at hand. “Gavin is his name. The name we are keeping from him, just as we keep him from his family each day.”
“Ever the warrior, Caro.” Her brother shook his head. “You must trust me. We’re keeping his name a secret from him for good reason.”
“Aye, your good reason,” she spat. “But not his. How can you be so selfish, Jasper? So heartless? What good does this do him? What good does it do anyone to perpetuate a lie?”
Her voice was shrill as she ended on the last question, and that was likely in part because of her overburdened emotions. It had been months since Philip had dashed her heart to jagged bits, but she had yet to recover fully. Having a patient to look after had been the distraction and the sense of usefulness she had needed. But when Jasper had recognized Gavin and then promptly forced her into secrecy, the distraction had been ruined. Her loyalty to her brother was stronger than her devotion to a stranger, and Jasper knew it. He had preyed upon it, in fact.
Her brother stalked around his desk instead of immediately answering, and went to a sideboard where he poured two glasses of gin.
He turned toward her, holding a glass out as if it were a peace offering. “Calm yourself, sister. Some drops of jackey to ward off the sting of your conscience? Works a charm, I’m given to understand, for those who still possess one.”
“I don’t want your cursed spirits,” she said, refus
ing to accept the glass. “Pour it down your own gullet.”
“Suit yourself, Caro.” He tossed back the liquid in first one glass, then the other. “Your loss.”
“It is morning,” she pointed out acidly.
“Never a better time to indulge,” he said, unrepentant. “That tasted like another.”
She was sure Jasper was needling her as a means of distraction, but Caro was not pleased.
“Our father was a souse,” she called to his retreating back.
Jasper did not pause his stride. At the sideboard, he filled both glasses once more, before turning back to her. “I ain’t a souse. Merely a brother who doesn’t want to listen to your nonsense. Our guest can’t recall a bleeding thing. He’s safest where he is. Christ, you’re the one who stitched him together again. You ought to know better than anyone that whoever attacked him wanted ’im to cock up his toes. It’s best if the bastards believe he did.”
She watched as her brother drained the replenished glasses, wincing on the last. “It is best for whom, however? Do you not think the Winters capable of protecting him? And do you not think he would be well-pleased to be among his people, to know who he is?”
Her brother crossed his booted feet at the ankles, leaning against the sideboard, pinning her with a glare. “No, I don’t think, Caroline. Else I would have returned ’im to the bloody Winters the moment I recognized ’is mangled carcass.”
Caroline.
Her brother’s use of her full given name rang like a reproach between them, more surely than his tone of voice. Every Sutton had a shortened name except Jasper. But that was to be expected, for he was their leader. And as Rafe had once pointed out, what the devil shall we call him, Ass? Everyone had guffawed except Jasper, who had scowled and threatened to cut off his brother’s ballocks and feed them to his dogs.
In this moment, Caro did not think such a sobriquet would be wrong.
She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “And why should he not go to his family? If someone had found Logan and kept him from us in the same way, how would you feel?”
Winter's Warrior (The Wicked Winters Book 13) Page 2