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The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress
Emotion flashed in Alyssa’s eyes. An emotion that caused Joshua to blink. Pain? Vulnerability? Loneliness? He looked again. But her eyes were already closing.
“I’m tired,” she whispered.
And Joshua wanted to kick himself for interrogating her when she least needed it.
“Rest,” he said feeling utterly powerless to do anything about her misery. “It shouldn’t be long until they operate.”
In the end, Joshua waited until the operation was over and had been declared a success by the surgeon he’d arranged—the best in the region. Once Alyssa had been moved to the private ward he’d booked, Joshua sat beside her while she blinked sleepily after a hefty dose of painkillers.
The surgeon would be doing rounds before he went home, and Joshua had every intention of cornering him to discuss Alyssa’s prognosis.
He looked down at her. She’d been a real trouper. Uncomplaining. Pleasant to the nurses. A dream patient.
On cue, almost as though she’d heard his thoughts, her eyelids fluttered.
“My boss is going to be mad. I’m going to need even more time off work.” She gave him a sleepy look from under heavy eyelids and pushed the covers back with her uninjured hand, revealing a white hospital-issue flannel gown.
Instantly his body stirred. God, the woman was hurt … drugged … and one sleepy glance was all it took to electrify him. To bring back the memory of strawberries and soft skin and—
He pressed his mouth into a hard line.
“Have no fear, I won’t be staying at Saxon’s Folly,” she muttered, misinterpreting his frustration.
“Yes, you will.” It had been bothering him ever since the doctor had asked who would be looking after her. “You’re staying. I’m the boss, remember? What I say goes.”
“I thought you couldn’t wait to be rid of me?”
“So did I,” he growled.
But she didn’t laugh as he’d half-intended. Instead her irises darkened her eyes to an unfathomable shade. “What of your concerns that I might stir up trouble with your mother … and Amy?”
“I’ll confine you to your room—so seeing Amy won’t be a problem.” Joshua smiled to make sure she knew he had no real intention of locking her away. “And for some strange reason your presence seems to be doing my mother good.” He hadn’t expected that. “Everything she says is prefaced by ‘Alyssa thinks …’ It’s her latest craze.”
Her expression softened. “I like your mother very much, too. I couldn’t impose on her. She has enough on her plate emotionally without an invalid in the house.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Joshua stood and stretched, his back aching from the hard hospital chair that he’d occupied for the past hour. “You’re staying at Saxon’s Folly.”
“Because you feel that what happened was your fault?”
Trust Alyssa to see through his offer to the self-blame that lay beneath. “Yes.” He raised an eyebrow and added with barbed humour, “And because I don’t trust you not to rush away and get legal advice so that you can sue Saxon’s Folly. Consider my invitation an attempt to save on legal costs.”
That managed to raise a smile. “Okay, then I definitely have no choice. But don’t accuse me of trying to seduce you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He couldn’t blame her for her reluctance to stay. He’d done all he could to drive her away, scared that she might hurt his family. And then there was his other unspoken fear.
The fear that stirred whenever she came too close.
The deep-seated fear that she could seduce him anytime she chose seemed unreasonably absurd when, eyelids drooping, she said softly, “Thanks, Joshua.”
The fear melted away beneath her gratitude.
“My pleasure.”
The hands of the clock on the wall moved forward, and Joshua sat quietly by Alyssa’s side as her eyes remained firmly shut. Not even the bustle of activity when the night staff came on duty caused her to stir.
He stared into her pale face. She was beautiful in sleep, her features perfect. The straight nose, the curved lips, the ivory skin and dark auburn hair that spilled against her fine-grained skin. How could he have missed her perfection?
Awake, Alyssa was so animated—so opinionated—that all consideration of her beauty was driven from his mind. He was always aware of her … the spirit of her … the very essence that was Alyssa. She annoyed him. She frustrated the hell out of him. And, yes, he’d admit she intrigued him more than any woman in a long, long time.
The night of the masked ball his attention had been captured by her figure, her poise, her assurance … and the in-your-face challenge that she radiated. Once he’d held her in his arms … well, hell, his hormones had taken over.
And then at the hospital, when his only concern should’ve been for his brother, he’d discovered he’d been turned on by Alyssa Blake, his dead brother’s forbidden lover.
The discovery had shaken him to the core.
Now he stared at her, remembered the flash of vulnerability when she’d spoke of her married friends with their families.
The loneliness in her eyes had called out to him.
Did she yearn for a family … children? Had she expected to find them with Roland? Or had his sometimes obtuse older brother caused the emptiness he’d glimpsed hidden inside her?
Then there was Amy, the woman who Roland had been supposed to marry before Christmas. Joshua had been eager for Alyssa to leave—before Amy found out Roland had been screwing around with another woman.
He felt torn between looking out for Amy, his mother’s goddaughter who he’d looked out for all his life, and the responsibility he’d acquired to Alyssa. She was hurt, in hospital, with no one to call on to tell about her operation.
Tough, opinionated Alyssa Blake needed him.
Watching her, something heavy shifted deep inside his chest. Alyssa wouldn’t be able to leave tomorrow. And even when she’d recovered enough to drive, how could he let her go back to Auckland, where clearly there was no one to take care of her?
Suddenly Joshua wished Roland had lived so that he could throttle his brother. How dare Roland have been so irresponsible? He’d always been a bit of a playboy … but to mess around with two women simultaneously was stupid. Hadn’t he expected them to find out about each other? And now Joshua was stuck with the mess.
Joshua stared at Alyssa. The worst of the whole mess was that he was starting to suspect that if she crooked her little finger at him, he’d come running.
He wanted her for himself.
A memory from earlier in the day flashed into his mind. Of her head tilted back, her eyes shut and her glorious hair spilled over the grass beside the woodland pool. God. He’d nearly damn well had her. He’d touched her pale skin, kissed her soft, sensitive breasts. He’d taunted Alyssa, asking if she wanted more. The raw truth was he’d craved more. Much more.
If the knowledge that she’d gone with him only because she’d wanted to see Roland’s favourite spot hadn’t been flung over him like a bucket of icy water, he would’ve taken her.
He almost wished he had.
A soft groan of shock escaped him.
What kind of man lusted after his brother’s lover … a brother who hadn’t even been buried for a month?
Nine
Alyssa woke to find pale gray, early-morning light filtering in through the half-closed blinds. Outside the ward she could hear the clank of heavy trolleys, hear the attendants offering patients tea down the corridor.
She started to sit up. A movement in the corner of the still-dim room startled her.
Joshua unfolded himself from an armchair. “Let me help you.”
“Thanks.” She leant forward. He bent over her and immediately his masculine scent embraced her. Sun and earth and a hint of lemon and something a little spicy. He propped a pillow in behind her back.
She couldn’t help thinking how unfair it was. She must look a mess, her hair rumpled, her eyes sleepy. Whereas the hollows beneath Joshua’s eyes gave him a jaded appeal that simply made him more attractive. The events of the past week had added edges and angles to his handsome features. Shadows darkened his eyes to black pits and in the depths she could discern his turbulence.
“Don’t tell me you stayed up all night?” she asked.
He nodded.
She clicked. “You should’ve gone home. That chair must’ve been terribly uncomfortable. Did you get any sleep?”
He came closer, till he stood beside the hospital bed. “Not much. There’s a lot on my mind.”
She could imagine. Joshua took his responsibilities seriously. And right now they must be piling up almost out of control. Saxon’s Folly took up a huge chunk of his time. He had his parents’ emotional well-being to look after … and Kay had told her that he was the executor of Roland’s estate. And beyond that lurked the threat of scandal about the tastings in the wine competition. No wonder he looked drained. All those matters must weigh heavily on his mind.
His eyes scanned her face, inspecting every feature, until Alyssa started to feel self-conscious. “What is it? What are you thinking about?”
The dark eyes met hers squarely. “You told me once that you loved my brother a great deal.”
He seemed to expect a reply. Alyssa swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. At last, she simply nodded.
“But you let me kiss you.” He brushed her lips with his fingertips. “Here. And here.” His fingers skimmed her neck, touching the base of her throat.
“Joshua!” Eyes stretched wide, she objected to his touch.
His hand moved to rest on the covers beside her. “I’d like to think that you would not have responded to me like that if you loved Roland.”
“I loved him.” It was a squeak of sound. Alyssa found that she couldn’t hold his gaze. She glanced down. His hand lay on the crisp white bedcovers. She jumped as he lifted it and placed a finger under her chin.
Tilting her head, he looked down into her eyes and asked, “Did you ever sleep with Roland?”
Her pulse started to hammer. She swallowed nervously. “What kind of a question is that?”
“Answer me.”
She shook her head.
Something gave in the bleak, black gaze. “Now we’re making progress. I don’t believe that you’d sleep with one man, and then respond to me like you did down at the waterfall so soon after his death. Not if you really loved him—not with your black-and-white views of the world. Not even because of grief.”
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