Page 17 of The Moonstone Hero
But that did not bear mentioning.
He glanced toward the door, eager to see her again, and even more eager to feel the sensation of her lips on his. How was he going to impress her when he could not even stand on his own?
It did not matter.
She was not going to go near him as he was now, an odorous mess. She, on the other hand, was always as sweet and fragrant as a meadow flower. Yesterday, her lips had tasted of wild honey.
How would they taste today? Perhaps of the ginger cake she had promised to bring him.
Now having a purpose to his recovery, he took up his crutches again and forced himself to walk around the room once more.
Every organ, bone, and pore in his body protested.
“Don’t overdo it, you arse,” he cautioned himself, for it was quite possible he would lose his balance and crash to the floor if he did not stop right now.
Ella would get an eyeful if she walked in while he was on the ground, just lying there in a nightshirt that barely fell to his knees.
Not that he expected her yet. She had torn out of his room yesterday as though the devil were on her tail.
And what a delightful tail she had.
He leaned against his bed a moment and took a few breaths to settle himself until his dizziness passed. Besides making himself fit for Ella, he needed to do this for himself. It was not in his nature to lie abed, and now one of the clerks from the RoyalMarines headquarters had sent him a list of proposed stops around the country for his “I am abloodyhero” tour.
He had ripped it up and sent a missive back telling them to kiss his arse.
Not the brightest thing he had ever done.
Two things were likely to happen once that message was received in London. The first: a contingent of soldiers would arrive and take him under their “protection” until he agreed to go along with this farce of a tour. The second: his grandfather would come for him, raging and blustering about dishonoring the family name by refusing to cooperate with his superiors.
Before either of those things happened, he wanted to spend as much time with Ella as possible. Lord knew why, for he was in no fit condition to court anyone, or even be in anyone’s company for too long. But she was special, a thing of beauty.
His gentle dove.
His.
“Ah, Lord Mersey, you are up and about,” Dr. Hewitt said, looking quite official with his spectacles perched atop his head and medical instruments dangling out of his coat pocket. “Careful not to overdo it.”
Caden laughed. “That warning is probably too late. I never do anything by half measures.”
“Well, you need to take it slow now. This is serious. I don’t want you to rupture any organs.”
“All right.” But he bridled at the caution, for he was tired of lying abed and impatient to recover, especially now that he had kissed Ella.
Having kissed her, what next?
He wanted more, of course. But not even he was that much of a wretch to coax her beyond what was proper. Not that kissing her passionately was proper. Nor were his thoughts about that exquisite body of hers remotely proper.
Of course, he had to restrain himself, or else she would believe those kisses meant something more than a bit of fun.
Perhaps they did mean more.
Yes, they did.
He could not breathe for wanting her.
And now, Dr. Hewitt had him seated at the edge of his bed and was asking him to take deep breaths. “Hold to the count of three. One. Two. Three. Good, now release.”
Caden let the air rush out of him with a groan. “Bollocks.”
