“All right.” She cast Trajan another achingly vulnerable smile.
If this adoration was merely an act on her part, then she was a very good actress. But he knew there was no guile or artifice in Florence. She was earnest and honest almost to a fault.
And if he were being honest with himself, he had to admit his feelings for her were beyond anything he had ever imagined possible between two people.
He loved Florence.
There was also quite a bit of soul binding going on, too. That nonsense poets spouted about two hearts becoming one, or two souls recognizing each other through time, might not have been so nonsensical after all.
Blessed saints.The loss of blood had left him a bit lightheaded and not thinking straight.
Also, he was in a lot of pain. The stitches hurt, each one feeling like a pin going through his arm as the doctor sewed him up. Which was exactly what the doctor was doing, repairing the ugly gash with needle and thread.
He kept his mind on Florence. He was going to sweep her into his arms and kiss her breathless as soon as the doctor was finished.
He wanted to do more than merely kiss her. His clothes were mostly off anyway. And his bed was big and comfortable.
He shook his head and sighed. Nothing was going to happen between them while they had a houseful of relatives and a worried staff watching their every move.
Botheration.
Lord, he really wanted her.
“Your Grace,” the doctor said, taking hold of his shoulder as he was about to insert the final stitches into the gash.
“I’m ready.” Trajan turned to Florence, just wanting to look at her and make certain she would stay strong.
The breath caught in his lungs at the look of love she cast him.
The doctor finished stitching him up. He hardly felt a thing now.Was this because he was concentrating on Florence and staring into her eyes of love?
What washappeningto him?
“Your Grace, I am going to…”
The doctor was saying something to him, but he was only half listening. “Right, fine.” His thoughts remained on Florence and her beautiful face.
He was going to kiss away her tears as soon as the doctor was finished with him. Yes, kiss her and see what else might come of it. Tonight, and every other night thereafter.
Why should he care what anyone said or thought?
And if not tonight, then they would be alone together in London soon enough.
Was it not a good time to bind their love? Drop the letters with the princess. Obtain the marriage license. Marry Florence. Make her his.
Not necessarily in that order.
That the two of them—
Ouch!
“Bloody blazes!”
The doctor had just poured a fiery liquid onto his wound that now had his body in flames, and not in any good way. Thatburned!
Of course, this was what the doctor had been trying to warn him about. He ought to have listened instead of gawking at Florence like a besotted idiot.
“Trajan,” she said softly, putting a hand to his cheek.
