“I’m all right,” he rasped. He wiped his mouth and kept his eyes screwed shut. “Need to work out whatever they gave me.”
Diana pressed a cool hand to his forehead, and he couldn’t resist sighing.
“They must have given you laudanum. Laced with something fast-acting,” she murmured.
A sickly sweet taste lingered on his tongue. “I can’t open my eyes or things will get ugly again. Please tell me they didn’t harm you. My memory’s too hazy.”
“They didn’t hurt me.”
“No, they merely terrorized you and left you to die on open water.”
“The only thing that frightened me was not knowing if you’d wake up.”
Her voice was low, but there was still a scrape to it, and it made him wish he was well enough to hit something. Or preferably, someone.
His hand searched and found hers. “I’ll be all right in an hour or two.”
“We’ll be back onshore by then. No, don’t open your eyes.” Diana brushed her soft hand against his brow. “A trawler took pity on us and he’s towing us back to Menton.”
“That’s hardly a few miles from where we cast off.”
“The tide was in our favor. And we would have drifted further if Titus’s men weren’t a complete gaggle of ninnyhammers. Turns out this little dinghy has an anchor. As soon as the tug pulled out of sight, I dropped it.”
Ian contemplated risking the blow to his head and stomach to open his eyes and assure himself that she was well. And once he knew she was sound in mind and body, he would not spare her feelings. Or her pride—or his, for that matter—when he confronted her with the dangerous reality her lack of trust in him had landed them.
“That bungle was a rare mistake,” he said. “Titus carries the walking stick of acapo. He’s a high-ranking soldier with the Manu Rosso.”
“And now he has the necklace.” She huffed. “This is all my fault.”
“We don’t have to talk about it now.” His head would shatter.
“They caught us because of the call I made to keep Birdie’s tails on you,” she insisted. “If I had trusted you—”
“It wouldn’t have stopped them from following me.”
“No, but we could have confided in each other and made a plan.”
The regret in her voice took the sting out of his anger. He propped himself on his elbow and wrenched an eye open to a squint. Diana’s pale face hovered over him; violet shadows clung beneath her eyes. But the tight brackets around her mouth released, and the way her mouth curved made it worth the effort it took to reach his thumb beneath her chin and stroke it. “We are going to have to come to an agreement, not just on what we do next, but how. I expect you to hear me out, and I will do the same. But one thing is certain; things cannot go on like this.”
“You’re right.”
“Can you repeat that? I must be delusional from the hypnotic.”
“I said you’re right, you salty devil. Now lie down before I throw you over.” She urged him back with a gentle hand. “We’ll settle this when we’re both well enough to argue.”
At the Menton port, Ian disembarked without passing out. Diana found them a shabby but clean boarding house, where they secured a room using one of his silver cufflinks for payment. The amount was generous enough to include breakfast. Ian refused it—he couldn’t think of food without his stomach rolling—and ordered hot water and a hip bath sent up to the room.
The combination of his aching head and the awkward stance needed to use the hip bath made him feel less than alluring, so he insisted on managing it without Diana’s help.
As he stepped out from the screen with a towel wrapped around his waist, the way her gaze lingered on his bare skin warmed his bones more than the bath.
“There’s still hot water left for you,” he said hoarsely.
She pulled the cover back from the bed. “Get in or you’ll catch a chill.”
He hesitated. “I can sleep on the floor.”
“Why?”
