“I fell asleep, Simon.”
“You sound surprised by that,” he said, making his way to a chair. He sat down and began pulling off his boots. He’d thought she’d run from him again.
“I… Yes, I am. I have never fallen asleep anywhere during the day.” He heard the wonder in her voice. “Of course, I cannot vouch for my infant years.”
“Perhaps after a few nights’ sleep, your body and mind have begun to enjoy the state of slumber, and a habit is forming.”
He could hear the sound of her rising and imagined the water running over her lush curves.
“Please ask the maid to bring you some hot water, Simon. I fear this is quite cold now.”
Glad to leave the room with his heated thoughts, he did as she asked, only to return to find her sitting in her nightdress on the edge of the bed.
“Your face is a myriad of colors now, Simon. Is it painful?” She was attempting to brush her hair, which fell in damp coils to her waist. God, she looked like heaven, sitting there in that prim white nightdress.
“Simon?”
“Uh…yes, much better now, thank you.”
The maids arrived and refilled the tub. Relieved, he slipped behind the screen to undress. Then he stepped into the water and began to scrub himself thoroughly, using a cloth. His skin was nearly raw by the time he stepped out, and his bruises ached, but he was no longer aroused.
“You take the bed, Claire. I will lay a blanket on the floor.”
“But your body is still sore. Surely you would be better on the bed.”
“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor, Claire.” Rubbing the drying cloth over his head and body, Simon then pulled on his breeches and stepped out from behind the screen.
“Then we will share a bed once more, Simon. I know you are a gentleman…for the most,” she added, blushing.
He watched her rise from the bed and move to the side, where she pulled back the covers and climbed in. Simon wasn’t sure he could do the same. He knew what she felt like in his arms now, and that had only made him want more. Part of him had always felt an attraction for Claire Belmont, but now it was a fire in his blood. Could he sleep next to her without reaching for her?
“If you sleep on the floor,” she continued, “then we shall both have no sleep.”
“How so, when you have the bed,” Simon said, moving to the opposite side. He then doused the lamp and pulled back the covers. He could do this. He was a grown man who had control over his passions.
“I will worry about you, and that will keep me awake.”
He settled himself and then turned onto his side to face her. However, she was facing the wall. “So this gesture of yours is not actually because you fear for my comfort–it is because you fear for your own?”
She snuffled. “Oh dear. It seems I have been found out.”
He smiled into the dark and thought that perhaps he could do this if it meant she would sleep. It was a nice feeling that she was relaxed enough in his company now to sleep, especially considering what they had just endured.
“Good night, Simon.”
“Good night, Claire.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Simon woke to an elbow in his already sore ribs. Struggling through the waves of sleep, he tried to establish what had happened.
“You should support me!”
“What?” Turning on his side, he blinked several times to clear his eyes.
“How can you do this, Mathew?”
Lifting up on one elbow, Simon looked down at Claire. In the moonlight, he could see she was lying on her back, body rigid, arms waving around above her head. She still slept but was giving her brother a piece of her mind while she did so.
“Be there for the child, if not for me. You were never there for me. So many long, dark, and lonely nights.”
“It’s all right, Claire. It’s just a dream. Come on, wake up now.” Simon cupped her cheek, turning her to face him.
“Simon?”
“Are there other men you use for a pillow?” He said the words softly, as slowly she focused on him.
“I was dreaming.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t usually dream.”
Simon pushed the hair off her face so she could see clearly. “Do you remember what your dream was about?”
“Mathew.”
“You were angry with him.”
She turned her face into his palm, and he heard her sigh. “Go back to sleep now, Simon. I’m sorry for waking you.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“No.” Just the one flat word, which Simon knew meant don’t probe. He would, however, as soon as they had the child. Mathew Belmont would be made to face the reality of his brother’s child if he had to beat him into submission.