"Why did you send for your brother, then?"
"So he'd be here to protect you if I wasn't about to do it, of course! Lord-!"
Running out of curses, he leaned forward, grabbed her hand and hauled her onto the bed. Pins, needle and mending went flying. Catriona gasped as she landed amid the covers.
Before she could react, he'd framed her face and was studying it closely.
"You haven't been taking care of yourself-"
"You were the one poisoned-" She struggled to get free, to sit up; even in his weakened state, he held her easily.
"We'll sort that out later. You obviously haven't been getting enough sleep. Pregnant women are supposed to sleep more-I would have thought you'd know that. You've staff and helpers about you…" He broke off, then looked into her eyes. "How long have I been unconscious?"
"Five days," Catriona informed him.
"Five days?" Richard stared at her, then his gaze softened and dropped to her lips… "No wonder I'm so hungry."
This time, Catriona knew precisely which appetite he was referring to. She opened her lips-but didn't manage to say a word.
He kissed her, gently, tenderly, then with gathering rapaciousness. Catriona felt the covers about her slide, felt the pillows shift, felt his hand slide up her leg to her garter, then stroke the soft skin above. He leaned into her, pressing her deeper into the soft mattress; she clung to the moment, savored it briefly, then thumped him on the shoulder. Hard.
He shifted slightly-she managed to drag her lips free and gasp: "Richard! You're not strong enough!"
He raised his head and looked down at her-as if what she'd just said was utterly impossible-then he hesitated, considered, then groaned, grimaced, closed his eyes, and rolled off her.
"Unfortunately, much as it pains me to admit it, I think you might be right."
"Of course, I'm right!" Struggling up on one elbow, Catriona tugged the covers back over him. "You've been at death's door-literally!-for five days. You're not simply going to open your eyes and"-she gestured wildly-"get right back into things."
He caught her eye and waggled his brows at her; ignoring her blush, she humphed. "You just stay there and rest." She went to slide away, to back off the bed, but his arm, around her, didn't give. She looked at his face.
"I'll stay here," he said, gently, reasonably, "provided you stay with me." Catriona frowned; inexorably, he drew her closer. "You need to rest, too." Drawing her down, back into his arms, he settled her head on his shoulder, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Just let me hold you while you sleep."
He did. Swamped by relief so deep it shook her, touched that his last conscious thoughts, and now his first, had been for her, wrapped in his arms, with him safe beside her, Catriona slept.
Chapter 17
"I am not an invalid!" Richard eyed the mushy food on the tray balanced across his thighs with disgust.
"You are," Catriona declared. "And Cook made that especially for you-she's an expert at building people up."
"I don't need building up." His expression mutinous, Richard poked at the greyish mass with his fork. "I need letting up."
"I think you'll find you're mistaken."
Richard looked up. "Honoria!" His sister-in-law swept in, clearly intending to lend Catriona her support; Richard glanced back at the doorway, and to his relief saw the shadow he wanted darkening the door. "Thank God-come in commonsense."
Brows rising, Devil strolled in. "I don't know that I've ever been called 'common' before." He grinned. "You need a shave."
"Never mind that-have you seen what they're feeding me?"
Devil looked. "Better you than me, brother mine."
"You have to save me." Richard pointed to the mushy mass. "You can't leave me to this fate."
Straightening, Devil looked across the bed-at Catriona, staring mulishly, arms folded; at his wife, her expression implacable, her fine eyes on him. "Hmm-actually, in this case, I think I must defer to higher authority."
Richard stared at him. "You've never done that before."