Maybe this injury of his might not be such a bad thing after all, a.s.suming he could work it to his advantage.

One minute pa.s.sed, then two, as she stood at his bedside. Finally she gave a soft sigh and began to turn away.

He moved against the sheets as if he were just waking and opened his eyes. "Hmm, is someone there?" he asked in what he hoped was a sleepy voice. "Who is it?"

She swung around and stepped back into the small circle of candlelight near his bed. "Pardon me. I didn't mean to wake you."

"No matter. I've been drifting in and out." He looked at the curtains that were tightly drawn over the windows. "What time is it? It must be late."

She tucked her hands against the folds of her dressing gown. "It's after two. I just . . ."

He'd never heard her tongue-tied before. He found it rather endearing. "Yes, just what?"

"I wanted to check on you, that's all. See if there might be anything you need."

He needed all sorts of things, but none of them seemed particularly prudent until his arm had a chance to heal. "Still feeling guilty for getting me shot?" he said, unable to resist teasing her.

She bristled. "I did not get you shot, at least not intentionally. How was I to know you'd get caught stealing clothes and be chased by a lunatic with a gun?"

She crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

He stared at their lush roundness for a long, appreciative moment before forcing his gaze upward again. "Maybe because you're the one who left me naked in the first place? It was bound to cause trouble."

"Yes, well, I've already told you I'm sorry." She frowned. "I should not have come. If you have need of anything, ring the bell for one of the servants."

She turned to move away.

Before she could, he reached out with his good hand and caught hold of her wrist. It was narrow and fine-boned, delicate for so resilient a woman. "Don't go," he said in a soothing voice. "We've quarreled enough for one day, do you not think?"

She stood motionless and made no effort to free herself. At length, she raised her eyes to his. "Yes." She gestured toward his bandaged arm. "What did the doctor say? Shall you recover or might there be . . . permanent damage?"

"I lost a fair amount of blood and needed st.i.tches, but with proper rest and care, I should heal."

Actually the doctor had told him he should be back to most of his normal activities in a few days, so long as he kept the wound clean and the dressings changed regularly so that infection did not set in.

"Are you in a great deal of pain?" she asked, her eyes filled with compa.s.sion.

"Some," he said, his voice deliberately soft.

"What have you taken for it? Is it time for another dose?" She glanced around, obviously searching for a medicine bottle.

"No. I'll be . . . fine." His voice sounded even weaker.

He paused, wondering whether he was overplaying his hand. But apparently not, since she just kept looking at him, her dark eyes soft and gentle in a way he'd never seen. He closed his own so as not to betray himself.

"I should let you rest," she murmured after a minute.

"No." His fingers tightened around her wrist. "Stay. I like your company."

"Do you?"

"Surprisingly, yes," he said in a teasing voice. Cracking open one eye, he caught sight of a faint smile hovering on her lips. It made him want to smile back-that and kiss her. "Please honor me with your companionship, if you would be so kind."

"How am I to respond to that? You make it rather hard to say no."

"Then don't. Say no, that is."

She shook her head. "Very well, let me get a chair." She moved to free her wrist from his grasp.

Instead he pulled her closer. "Sit here on the bed next to me."

"I couldn't, my lord-," she protested.

"Of course you can." He tugged again until, with some reluctance, she sat.

He relaxed more deeply against the sheets. "Good. That's good." With a fingertip, he traced the satiny skin on the inside of her wrist. "Do you not think after everything that has pa.s.sed between us that you might call me Leo? We're here together alone, you in your robe and me in my drawers. And don't puff up-you've seen me naked, after all. And stolen my clothes. Not to mention coming to my aid when I was at a decidedly low ebb. Surely we are beyond formality at this point?"

She arched a brow. "I have found that a measure of formality never goes amiss. Besides, were I to start using your given name, it would only encourage you and as we both know, you have no need of that."

He laughed, then groaned when a fresh stab of pain shot through his arm.

Her eyes softened again. "Are you certain there is nothing I can bring you to ease your hurt? Surely the doctor left a sedative of some kind."

"He tried, but I didn't want it. Laudanum and I don't mix well."

"A gla.s.s of wine, then? Or brandy?"

"Later perhaps. Right now, there are other things I'd like better."

"Leo-," she said in soft warning.

"See how easy that was? Say my name again just so I know you've got the knack of it."

"I should go."

"What? And desert me again? You did leave me out in the wilds, naked and defenseless, if you'll recall."

She lifted a single dark eyebrow. "I don't think anyone would ever describe you as defenseless."

"And yet, here I lie, gunshot and in pain."

She studied him briefly, a new frown creasing her forehead. "I already told you I am sorry. What more can I say?"

"Nothing. But you could do something to make it up to me."

"Such as?"

"Admit that you aren't nearly as indifferent to me as you claim."

"Lord Leopold-"

"Leo," he reminded. He slid his fingers along her arm, gratified by the answering tremor that rippled just beneath her skin. "Spend some time with me after we return to London. Two weeks in which we can get to know each other better. If, at the end of that time, you still wish to be quit of me, I shall cease my pursuit and never trouble you again."

"Two weeks, you say?"

He nodded. "But you can't shut me out like you did before. You have to give me a fair chance to show you just how compatible we can be."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I shall continue to chase you, even more ruthlessly than before," he said, his words filled with unmistakable intent.

"That hardly seems fair."

"Neither was being shot by an outraged cottager who didn't like finding a naked stranger purloining a few of his clothes from the laundry line."

"Borrowing, remember?"

"I did offer to pay him outright, but as he pointed out, I had no money on my person at the time."

Her expression grew troubled. "Have you spoken with Lord Holland about the incident? Is the man to be jailed?"

Leo shook his head. "No. I am not pressing charges."

"But he shot you!"

"He did. Were I not who I am, though, a wealthy aristocrat with a powerful family and influential friends, the law would likely see his actions as justified. I was stealing from him no matter my real intent."

"He ought to have accepted your word as a gentleman, even if you were unclothed at the time."

He smiled at her protective outrage. "Perhaps. But you have to admit it isn't every day a naked aristocrat wanders into a farmer's back garden looking for a pair of breeches to cover his bare b.u.t.tocks."

Her eyes rounded briefly before a smile crept over her mouth.

"At least he was only a middling shot," Leo remarked. "Just think how you would feel now had he killed me."

Her cheeks paled, all amus.e.m.e.nt disappearing from her face.

"Two weeks with me, Thalia," he urged. "Then I shall absolve you completely and never mention it again."

"Fine," she said on a hastily exhalation, "you can have your two weeks. But don't think that means you will be spending them in my bed."

"A tumble on the sofa would serve just as nicely," he said with a wicked smile.

She cuffed him on the shoulder.

"Ouch. Injured here, remember?"

"Sorry," she said, looking genuinely contrite.

He closed his eyes again and worked to look even wanner than he felt, deciding it couldn't hurt to fan the flames of her guilt a bit more.

"Are you certain you won't take a gla.s.s of brandy?" she asked.

He peeked out from beneath his eyelashes, and felt a little guilty himself. She really did look upset.

"No. I just need to rest." He paused, a small silence settling between them. "So when shall I call at your town house?"

"When you are well. But understand something. This time together will not change my mind about becoming your mistress."

He hummed low in his throat. "We shall see."

"I do not want a lover, Lord Leopold," she said with exasperation.

He traced the length of her forearm again, then caught her hand, threading his fingers through hers. "But I wouldn't just be your lover. I would also be your friend."

And I do want to be her friend, he realized. I want to discover everything there is to know about the beautiful, mysterious woman who is Lady Thalia Lennox.

For a long moment, surprise and confusion shone in the rich caramel of her eyes, as though no other man had ever said such a thing to her.

Then it was his turn to frown.

"I really do need to go," she said. "And you need to rest."

But he tightened his hold again. "Not yet. There's one more thing I require before I can sleep."

"What might that be?"

"A kiss. To make it all better, as they say."

"I don't think a kiss will heal the bullet hole in your arm."

"No, but it can't hurt it either."

Her lips twitched; then she gave a grudging laugh. "You are incorrigible, Lord Leopold."

He grinned. "Leo. Now, let's have that kiss."

"This is a very bad idea."

"It's an excellent idea. Look upon it as an act of mercy."

She shook her head, then sighed. "Close your eyes."

He shifted beneath the covers, his pulse racing faster, as fresh arousal awoke inside him.

"Eyes," she reminded softly.

Dutifully, he closed his lids.