by Laura Landon
Damien pounded his fist against the bed then hollered, “Chivers!”
“It will do you no good to bellow for anyone to come to your aid. I’ve instructed everyone to ignore any ranting that comes from this room.”
“You can’t do this—” he started to say, as Olivia threw the covers off him.
He stiffened when his protection was removed, and Olivia busied herself by wringing out a towel from the hot water. She cringed, whether from the heat that burned her hands or from his discomfort at being so helpless, she wasn’t sure. But this couldn’t be helped. She refused to let the injuries that she was responsible for causing be a barrier between them for the rest of their lives.
“I won’t be as proficient as Captain Durham,” she said wringing out another cloth, “but I’ll endeavor to improve.”
“Olivia, don’t—”
“Please, let me get started, Damien. These towels are losing their heat.”
His jaw clenched in anger, and his fists tightened as if they wanted to strike out at someone—perhaps her—while his chest heaved with raging fury. And he lay immobile on the bed, refusing to turn.
“I’ve already seen your legs, Damien. They were not a pleasant sight, and I would give the world if I could turn back the hands of time and prevent what happened to you, but I can’t. And I refuse to offer you my pity. It will hardly help you improve. What will, however, is doing what the healer told you to do.”
Damien impaled her with his glare.
“Yes, I know about the healer you went to, and what he told you. Therefore, we are left with no option but to follow his instructions to the letter. Captain Durham tells me it is the only way you will regain your strength.”
Olivia sighed when he still didn’t move. “Please turn over onto your stomach and make this easier for both of us.”
“This is the reason you sacrificed a good pair of satin breeches?”
Olivia looked down at the navy satin breeches he wore from which Chivers had cut off the legs.
“I did it as much for you as for myself, my lord. I realize what part I must play to make you well again and am more than willing to help you. But I’m afraid I don’t have the courage to touch you so intimately while you’re naked. You’ll have to give me at least a day or two before—”
“A day or two? It’ll be a hell of a lot longer than a day or two before—”
“Damien, turn over. The water’s growing cold.”
A long, fragile silence separated them while his eyes focused on the ceiling. He was the one to finally break it.
“I don’t want you to see me, Olivia. I’m not sure I can let you touch me.”
His voice was a whisper that tore at her heart. She swallowed hard before answering.
“How long do you think you can stay hidden from me? Unless your threat for us to marry was a false one?”
“No. We’ll marry.”
“Then it really matters little whether I see you today or later.”
He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh she took as his resignation, then rolled onto his stomach. His whole body stiffened as if he realized how exposed he was to her. She tried to push the humiliation he must be feeling to the back of her mind.
“Do you need anything before I begin?” she said, trying to keep her voice from revealing how the sight of his hideously scarred legs tore at her insides. How the thought of touching him so intimately set her on fire.
“No. I doubt you’re strong enough to cause much pain.”
“Perhaps not today. But there’s always tomorrow. I will be stronger tomorrow.”
And Olivia laid the steaming cloths over his thighs and calves. Then she took a deep breath and touched him. Every muscle in his body stiffened when her hands came into contact with his flesh. She fought the urge to pull her hands away from the warm heat of his body. Fought not to show any sign he could mistake as revulsion.
She clamped her lower lip between her teeth and bit down, trying to focus on something other than the intense heat swirling in the pit of her stomach and Damien’s nakedness at the tip of her fingers.
Olivia placed one warm towel after another on his legs while thousands of stinging needles pierced her skin, sending shock waves up and down her arms. Her heart pounded in her breast and she suddenly had difficulty breathing. Touching him set her on fire as wave after wave of molten heat seeped through every part of her. How on earth would she survive rubbing her fingers over his flesh, touching him in ways she never thought she’d touch anyone? Not even her husband.
But she had no choice. Not if she wanted Damien to get stronger. Not if she intended to do everything in her power to help him heal.
Olivia lifted the warm cloth from the calf of one leg and pressed down on his knotted muscles. She didn’t notice the puckered skin or the raw, red scars, but only how alive and vibrant he was. Even marred, he was more masculine than anyone she’d ever met. She was like a bow stretched tight, ready to spring. And she had no idea how she would endure what she knew was coming.
She took a deep breath and concentrated on the instructions Captain Durham had given her. With trembling fingers and her heart thundering in her breast, she began kneading the knotted muscles in Damien’s legs.
Her touch was at first tentative and she knew she didn’t have the brute strength it took to work the muscles with the same force as Captain Durham. But more than once she heard Damien gasp when she rubbed an especially tender spot.
She changed the cloths time and again, and when the water cooled, she sent for hotter water. She kneaded his flesh until her arms ached, then lifted his legs, bending them and stretching them until a spot between her shoulder blades burned as if on fire. And when she was finished, she helped Damien onto his back and repeated the process.
Only it was much more difficult with him on his back. There was a chance she’d look up and find him watching her. A chance that he’d look into her eyes and realize the effect he had on her.
Olivia concentrated harder, making sure she kept her focus on what her hands were doing and not lift her gaze to his face. With relentless energy, she worked on one leg then the other, bending and pushing until his knee nearly touched his chin.
“Enough!”
Her gaze darted to his, and she saw the strain on his face. And the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. She suffered a wave of panic. “Have I hurt you?”
“Yes . . . No . . .” He rolled his eyes, then lifted his hands and let them fall against the bed. His hands were balled into fists. “I’ve endured enough,” he said through clenched teeth.
She couldn’t stop the smile from her face. She may be damp in a most unladylike fashion, but she knew she’d challenged him more than he’d expected.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Just fine.”
Olivia smiled. With an inordinate sense of self-satisfaction, she gathered the towels she’d used and put them in a pile. “The captain said you were to stay abed for the rest of the day, and tomorrow you could get up if you thought you could manage.”
“I’ll manage,” Damien answered, his chest heaving as if he’d run a race.
“Do you need something for the pain?”
He laughed, and her heart skipped a beat. “Oh, yes. But I doubt you’d want to oblige me further.”
It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t talking about the pain in his legs. With burning cheeks, she reached to pull the covers over him.
With lightning speed, his fingers clasped around her wrists. “Or maybe you would.”
“No.”
He slowly moved her arms until they were spread wide on either side of him, leaving her no choice but to drop down until she was lying on top of him.
Olivia’s breaths came in harsh, ragged gasps, and Damien’s were no different. He moved his arms out further until her breasts were flat against his chest.
It was a torture of the worst kind, being so close to him, having her body pressed against his, feeling the heat from his naked flesh burning through the material of her gown. Olivia was certain she would go up in flames at any time.
She looked into his eyes. Waited for him to say something. To put a reason to the hunger she saw. To give an excuse to what she knew was about to happen. To pretend for just a moment that what he felt was something more than lust.
Perhaps if he’d just let himself, it might be possible for him to admit he cared for her. She so desperately needed to know there was the slightest chance he could learn to love her again.
But his eyes turned predatory, and she knew he could not. With a heavy sigh that roared with anguish, he ran one hand up the length of her arm and over her shoulder, then cupped the back of her head with long, strong fingers that wouldn’t release her.
She knew he was going to kiss her. Knew from the desperation in his gaze that he wanted her. Perhaps even as much as she wanted him. And yet, a small voice deep inside her warned her it wasn’t just a kiss they would share. It was the surrender of a part of her heart. A part that, if damaged, she’d never find a way to repair.
The gamble was so great. It was as if they were playing a game, but the odds were vastly uneven. The stakes were so much higher for her than for him. She had so much more to lose, for he was not risking any part of his heart.
Olivia wanted to fight him. She knew the second she gave in to him, all hope would be lost. He would have the advantage and would use it to his benefit. He would use that advantage to dominate her. To rule her.
And then it would be too late.
Damien increased the pressure, bringing her head down until their mouths were a breath apart. Until she felt herself melding with him.
Flames of desire raged inside her, from her tingling breasts to the heat swirling deep in her belly.
She needed to save herself. But she couldn’t. She wanted him too badly. Couldn’t control the emotions that had lain dormant since she’d thought him dead. And even if he could never love her—and suddenly she was scared to death that that’s how it would always be—she could not stop herself from loving him.
Fiery flames licked with unrelenting intensity. With the slightest lift of his head, he ground his lips against hers, and she gave in to him.
Their mating was the violent clashing of two lost souls. Their passion frantic in every sense of the word. Not the slow, languorous sharing of emotion or the gentle giving of one’s self, but the needy taking of what would not be denied.
Damien opened his mouth beneath hers, thrusting his tongue inside her as if possessing her with his hands and mouth made him the victor. It was as if she’d awakened a sleeping dragon, and she knew if she gave in to him now she would be the loser.
He deepened his kisses, demanding more than she thought she could give. His hands roamed over her body, touching her with an intimacy that set her ablaze. With each touch, he took her closer to the edge of a precipice, expecting her to leap with him into the unknown where they would spiral downward toward a promise of physical release.
But only one of them would survive the fall. And it would not be her.
With the strength of someone fighting for her life, she pushed away from him and rushed from the bed. Her legs were weak beneath her, and she stumbled once before reaching out for a cushioned armchair near the wall. She leaned against it while gasping for air. His voice hit her with the force of an unexpected blow.
“I will get the special license tomorrow and we’ll be married one week from today.”
Olivia closed her eyes to block out the burgeoning regrets swarming before her. She knew what it was like to be loved by Damien. She remembered it from before.
There was no love in what they’d just shared, only lust. There was no emotion in the words he’d spoken. Only a demand.
It left an emptiness she knew would never go away.
Olivia sat in the darkness and listened to the familiar creaks and groans of a house long asleep. She couldn’t sleep, not when every time she closed her eyes, the feel of Damien’s lips against hers brought her instantly awake. Not when every time the thought of how completely she’d given herself to him enveloped her with a sense of loss. She’d give the world to believe she had the power to break down the barrier that guarded his heart and kept her from getting close to him.
Olivia leaned her head back against the cushion of her chair and closed her eyes. She heard another moan from Damien’s room and knew he was having a restless night. She would not be so foolish as before and rush to him. Not unless he really needed her. Not after what had happened the last time. And especially after what had happened earlier in the day.
Olivia had no doubt if he kissed her again, she wouldn’t have the willpower to stop him. She wouldn’t want to stop him.
If only she didn’t love him so desperately. If only she could remain as detached as Damien. But she couldn’t.
Nor could she ignore the growing desperation in the sounds coming from his room. She tried to ignore the hurt she heard, tried to hold herself back from going to him. But as if her feet had a will of their own, they carried her across the room and down the hall.
She opened his door and stood on the other side of the room, her eyes focusing on where he lay in his bed.
“Damien?”
She stepped farther into the room and called his name again.
“Damien. Are you awake?”
She heard him suck in a sharp breath as if she’d startled him.
“What are you doing here?”
“You’re having a nightmare. Are you in pain?”
“No, I—”
He suddenly flew forward, clutching his leg. His cry was filled with torment. Olivia raced over to the bed.
“Where does it hurt?”
She threw the covers from him and pushed his hands away from his calf. He flopped back against the mattress and threw his arm over his eyes. Olivia worked the knot in his leg until her fingers ached, and only when she felt him relax did she lighten her touch.
“Is it better?”
“Ah, hell,” he growled, lifting his arm from over his eyes. “I haven’t had a cramp that bad for a long time.”
“You overdid it, and your legs are letting you know.”
“Yes, doctor.”
Olivia gently rubbed both his legs a little longer then pushed herself off the bed. A thousand firelights of emotion sparked between them, and an instant wash of liquid heat raced through her body, sucking her under, stealing her breath. She needed to get away from him before she was consumed by the need surging through her. “Do you want something for the pain before I leave?”
“No. It’s better now. Thank you.”
Olivia turned and stepped away from him. “I’ll go back to bed then. Call if you need something.”
Her legs trembled as she walked away from him. How many times would she have to touch his flesh, then walk away as if such intimacy didn’t leave an ache deep inside her? How many times could she lie to herself and pretend she wasn’t affected by such closeness? How many times would just being near him set her body on fire with a heat that burned from the inside out? A heat she knew there was only one way to extinguish, and if she ever yielded to the temptation, all that would be left would be an emptiness that would never go away.
“Olivia, don’t leave.”
She walked a little faster, needing to separate herself from him. Needing to put enough space between them so she wasn’t tempted to run back into his arms. She almost ran the last few steps and reached out for the handle to the door with a frantic desperation.
“Liv, please.”
She froze with her hand on the knob and shook her head. She couldn’t stay. She would only be hurt if she did.
She heard the rustle of the sheets an
d covers and knew he’d gotten out of bed. She heard his uneven gait as he crossed the room. Her breath caught in her throat when the heat from his body pressed against her.
His breath brushed against her neck and his arms snaked around her waist from behind, and he pulled her against him.
“Stay with me, Liv.”
Olivia turned in his arms. “Why, Damien?”
When he didn’t answer her, she cupped her palm against his scarred cheek, hoping he’d realize with her actions that his disfigurement didn’t matter to her. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Why, Damien?”
“Because I want you.”
Olivia squeezed her eyes shut tight. He hadn’t said, “Because I need you.” He hadn’t said, “Because I love you.”
Olivia waited, praying that Damien would amend his words, would show some sign that he cared for her. Because he had feelings for her. She prayed that he’d give some indication that he wanted more than a partner for his physical needs. Needs a common whore could satisfy as well as she.
But he said nothing.
Olivia knew a loneliness unlike anything she’d ever imagined.
With trembling hands, she pushed away and let herself out of the room.
Chapter 20
Damien paced his bedroom with long, agitated steps. It had been hours since she’d left him, and he could barely survive the guilt gnawing away at him. From the second she closed the door behind her, a part of him wanted to go to her. Another part warned him to stay away.
Bloody hell! How could he live with what he was doing to her? How could he survive another night like the one he’d just shared with her without risking his heart? He knew she’d wanted to hear words he couldn’t say, declarations of love he wouldn’t allow himself to make. But he couldn’t. He’d learned long ago what happened when he expected the person to whom he’d given his heart to love him as desperately as he loved her.
He forced himself to remember waking up aboard the Princess Anne and struggling to survive the betrayal that had nearly killed him. Well, it wouldn’t happen a second time. She’d never hear those words from him again.