Page 27 of Someone to Watch Over Me
He laughed softly. “I’m not the marrying kind.” He picked up the braided rope of her hair and played with the feathery ends.
“You never intend to have a wife and children?”
“What reason is there? I feel no overwhelming need to continue a damned undistinguished family line. Neither do I have great confidence in my ability to stay faithful to one woman for a lifetime. When I want female companionship, I can get it. My servants look after the household and see to my meals and my comfort. What use would I have for a wife?”
“You’ve never met a woman you couldn’t live without?”
She felt him smile against the back of her head. “You’ve read too many novels.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” she said ruefully. “Nevertheless…won’t you regret it when you’re old and gray, and you have no life’s companion to reminisce with—”
“And no grandchildren to dandle on my knee,” he finished. “Thank you, but I have no ambitions to produce offspring who will yank my whiskers and hide my walking stick behind the settee. I’d rather enjoy some peace in my old age…if I live that long.”
“How cynical you are.”
“I am,” he acknowledged evenly. “The strange part is, you are too. But to listen to you, one would think you’re an idealistic innocent.”
“I don’t feel cynical,” she remarked after a moment. “I don’t feel like anything you’ve told me I am.”
A contemplative silence followed, while the warm pressure of his hand settled at her shoulder.
“Grant,” she said with a stifled yawn, “how long before I’m allowed to visit my town house?”
“When Dr. Linley says you’re fit to be up and about.”
“Good. He’s coming to see me tomorrow. I’m sure he won’t have any objections to my going.”
“Why the hurry?” Morgan asked softly. “What do you hope to find at the town house?”
“My memory.” She pressed her head deeper into the welcoming softness of the pillow. “When I see my familiar possessions and all my own books, I’m positive that everything will come back to me. I’m so weary of feeling so…soblank.”
“You don’t have many books,” he said. “I don’t recall seeing more than a handful.”
“Oh.” She twisted to face him, their noses nearly touching in the darkness. “Why do I like things now that I didn’t like before?”
“I don’t know.” His breath, scented with cinnamon and the slightest hint of coffee, puffed against her chin. “Perhaps Linley will have an answer for that.”
“What do you think will happen when I regain my memory? Will I change back to the way I was before?”
“I hope so,” he muttered.
“Why?” she asked, hurt by the blunt statement. “You don’t like me the way I am now?”
“I like you too damned much,” he said brusquely. “And you’re going to make it bloody inconvenient for me to…”
“To what?”
He didn’t reply, only growled a curse that set her ears on fire. “I warn you, Vivien, if you’re playing some kind of game with me, I’ll probably end up killing you myself.”
“I’m not playing a game,” she replied with injured dignity. “Why would I? If I had anything to tell regarding the person who tried to drown me, believe me, I would come out with it right away. I won’t be safe until he’s caught, will I?”
“No, you won’t. Which leads to one last point…You’re not to go anywhere without me.”
“Of course. I’m not stupid.”
His large hands turned her over to face away from him and urged her to the center of the bed, until they were at least an arm’s length apart. “Now, stay there,” he said. “And mind you don’t roll against me in the night, or you won’t like what happens.”
“There’s no danger of that,” she responded pertly. “This bed is so large, we may as well be in separate counties.”
