Page 58 of Embers in the Snow

“You can go back to your bath and your erotic fiction in your spare time, Vinciel.” My left eyebrow twitches in irritation. The curse didn’t fix that habit, it seems. “As good as Kagan is, he isn’t going to appreciate the nuance here. You, on the other hand, have been obsessively researching my condition.”

“So you know of Belladonna’s books, hmm?” Ciel retrieves a stethoscope from a nearby table. He eyes Finley’s bulky woolen tunic, which is far too big for her.

It’s military-issue. Gerent must’ve gotten it from the surplus room.

As soon as she is recovered, I will make sure she is dressed by the finest tailors and seamstresses in Sanzar.

No expense will be spared.

“I’ve often seen a dog-eared copy of her latest publication or other lying around the palace, but I don’t partake,” I say dryly.

“That’s what they all say,” Ciel mutters as he lifts the edge of Finley’s tunic.

I’m beside him in a flash, my fingers clamping around his wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Ciel hisses in pain. “Corvan, calm the fuck down.Beforeyou crush my bones, because if you do that, these hands will never fix another body again. I’m just trying to listen to her heart. You know, the thing that’sunderall this bloody wool. Hecoa’s curses, has the taste of her made you this irrational already? Because I’d hate to see what you’d be like if you ever chose to—”

“Iwill lift her garment,” I growl. “You just listen. Don’t touch her.”

Sowhatif I’m feeling irrationally possessive right now?

I reach out and lift up her tunic. Underneath is a white shirt made of the finest silk.

It looks like one ofmine.

Bloody Gerent. My majordomo earns points for creativity, at least. While waiting for the tailors in Sanzar to make her clothes, he’s gone and pilfered one of my fine shirts for her to wear.

It’s far too big for her, of course, the silk creased in places, draping across her slender body but stretched taut over the swell of her breasts.

Her chest rises and falls.

I can see the faint outline of her nipples through the thin cloth.

My cock stirs.

Through the haze of possessiveness, amusement tugs at the corner of my mouth. At least that part of me isn’t dead.

“You don’t have to lift her shirt,” I say quietly, watching Ciel like a hawk. “The material’s thin enough. Listenthroughit.”

Ciel is a consummate professional, but the presence of another male in such close proximity is making me irrational.

My medic places his stethoscope on her chest. His movements are quick and precise. He listens to her heart, then her lungs, both in front, and at her sides. The dark part of me wants to rip his slender fingers away from her body, but it’s just a fleeting thought.

Would anyotherwoman cause me to react like this, or is there something about her that puts her above all others?

The honorable thing to do would be to send her away right now; to marry her on paper as my father demands and install her in a comfortable estate in the bucolic countryside, far away from me and my insatiable hunger.

But I’m not going to do that.

Who ever said I was so honorable?

“She’s certainly anaemic, but it isn’t dire,” Ciel declares, promptly pocketing his stethoscope and stepping away from her. “I suspect she’s simply fainted from the mild blood loss and shock of having the likes ofyougnawing on her neck. Be a good sport and carry her over to the divan, won’t you? We’ll elevate her legs and give her something to drink when she comes to.”

I take a deep breath, inhaling herbal antiseptic in an effort to clear my head. Then I take her into my arms and gently lay her on Ciel’s brocade-upholstered divan. Right away, he’s there with a plump cushion, placing it under legs, grabbing her ankles to lift her legs one by one.

Howdarehe touch her?

With great effort, I remind myself that he’s only doing his job.

---