Page 58 of Deposed

Blake helped me out of the boat, stepped off, and placed a hesitant hand on my waist. His gaze wavered from my eyes to my lips, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. It was as though he wanted to kiss me but was afraid I would reject him.

His hand dropped from my waist and wrapped around his chest. “You were right.” He gulped. “I did it on purpose.”

“What?” I stared into his lowered eyelids.

“Didn’t convince you hard enough not to call the police.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It was selfish. Edward had told us both to back off and give you space, and I was sick of all the dance lessons with Yelverton and her friend acting as chaperones. I wanted you to come back the next day and the day after that to talk about the kidnappers.”

I blinked a few times. Blake hadn’t told me anything new, but I hadn’t expected he had wanted us to become closer. “You didn’t guess I would call the police, then?”

“I didn’t think you would be so decisive, no.” He held his body stiff like a person waiting for the blow to strike.

My heart melted. After that extraordinary rescue and the loving care he’d administered over the past days, how could he doubt that I would forgive him? When his eyes flickered to mine, realization slotted into place. Our past, the pranks he had committed against me, were holding him back. Or rather, the guilt he carried for having hurt me so much.

I placed a hand at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. “What you did for me these past few days makes up for everything.”

He glanced away. “It wasn’t anything special.”

I held his head between both hands and turned it toward me, so we stared into each others’ eyes. “Listen. No one has ever risked their neck for me the way you did. They could have had knives or guns or another accomplice in a different room, but you rescued me anyway. You weren’t satisfied with the police’s progress and went looking for me on your own. None of the reporters did that. It was you. So if I say I forgive you for those pranks, I forgive you.”

He stepped into my space and pressed his lips onto mine with the gentlest of kisses.

“Swear to me you won’t put yourself in danger again,” he whispered against my lips.

“I swear it.”

Chapter 20

Blake and I spent the rest of the afternoon at Lake Wessex. By the time we returned to Elder House, the pain medication, combined with the exhaustion of the day, weighed my limbs and caused my eyes to fall closed. He walked me straight to the room I shared with Rita, opened the door, settled me onto the edge of my mattress, and unfastened one of the Louis Vuitton cases piled at the foot of the bed.

“I’ll pack your things,” he said.

Rita turned around from her desk, took one look at my bruises, and her face dropped. Her fountain pen fell from her loose fingers and rolled across the floor.

With trembling lips, she asked, “W-where have you been? And who did this to you?” Her gaze darted from me to Blake, and then back to me. “W-was it one of them?”

I shook my head. “I went down to London, and got caught in an ambush.” My insides cringed with shame. I hadn’t told Rita because she would have begged me not to go and told me that revenge on Charlotte wouldn’t be worth the risk of her retribution. “Mr. Carbuncle did this with the help of Charlotte’s brother. Blake came to my rescue.”

She clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “That’s… Did you call the police?”

“They know about it.” I didn’t want to mention that the Saturday Correspondent had made the call so as not to alert Blake that Rita knew about my involvement with them. I trusted him with my life but didn’t trust him with Rita. “Mr. Carbuncle escaped. He’s out there, somewhere, and I’m moving in with Edward.”

She pulled on her long braid but didn’t reply. I wanted to ask her how she hadn’t heard anything of the articles in the paper written about Paul Underwood’s arrest, but it likely had something to do with the amount of time she spent with her friend in Hawthorn House, who I was beginning to suspect was now her boyfriend.

Blake helped me up to the top floor, where Edward had left his room unlocked. I expect he had already texted ahead about our sleeping arrangements or the three of them had discussed it in the palace on Sunday when Nurse Priya had come to change my dressings. I changed into my nightclothes, settled myself into Edward’s bed, and held Blake’s hand.

“Thanks for a great day.”

He kissed my knuckles. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

I tucked my arm under Edward’s crisp, cotton sheets. Blake stood and pulled off his jacket. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t think I’m going to leave you here on your own, do you? This bed is big enough for four. He paused. As long as everyone snuggles close, and the fourth is as small as you.”

My lips quirked into a smile, and I scooted back to make space for Blake.

* * *

I awoke the next morning in Edward’s bed, curled around Blake with my head on his bare chest. My leg brushed over the thick erection encased in his silk pajama bottoms, and a low, sensual moan rumbled in his chest. Edward molded his front to my back and slung an arm around my waist. His fingers skimmed the patch of skin between the bandages encasing my torso and the hem of my panties, spreading warmth between my legs. Every muscle of my abdomen relaxed under his touch, and I let out a sigh of contentment. This was the first night I had slept without the sleeping pills, and it was thanks to their presence.