Page 108 of Miss Wylde and the Wynd

“Riveting.”

“Truly?” She could not tell if he was teasing or not.

“It is not bad, but I have not been reading long and am hoping secrets are revealed.”

Georgie chuckled. “It is the reason I chose it.”

He set the book aside and turned to her. “How are you feeling?”

“The same I suppose. My headache is gone but I am so very tired.”

“It is to be expected.”

“How do you know? Have you ever suffered a sunburn?”

“When I was younger, but after working on the water for so many years, I suppose my skin cannot burn any longer.”

There was no pinkness to him whatsoever, but a light browning of his skin, which enhanced the blueness of his eyes.

“Are you hungry?”

At his question her stomach grumbled in response to which he chuckled.

“I shall return with your dinner shortly.” He then kissed her forehead. “I hope that did not hurt.”

It had been comforting, an unexpected affection. “No.”

“Good.” He then left the bed and walked to the door. “Do not go anywhere.”

She was in her shift, where would she go and even if she did, she could not wander far.

Georgie blew out a sigh and shook her head.

This sunburn had better be gone tomorrow, or at least her skin needed to no longer be tender because she did not want to spend her last day with Damian afraid to touch her.

Chapter Forty-Five

Damian woke in the middle of the night with Georgie curled around him, which he enjoyed. What was different was her shivering, just as the doctor had warned.

Carefully he pulled the extra blanket over them. While the heat was nearly more than he could stand, he held Georgie close and soon her chills subsided and he was able to sleep again. When he woke in the morning, she had moved away from him and had pushed the blankets down to her waist.

She was quite fetching in her nearly sheer shift and if her arms and chest were not still red, he would wake her in the most delightful way.

Instead, he removed himself from the bed, took away the extra blanket from the night before, then covered her with a lighter one. He would hate for her to wake because she was too hot or too cold because sleep was probably the best for her, though it would make another long day for him.

Which also left him with too much time to think.

If he were in Southampton, his mind would be on Trade Wynd—the ships, cargo, or planning ways to better the company. Except he wasn’t there, but on a ship crossing the Irish Sea. And, instead of Trade Wynd, his mind turned to the question that Georgie had posed the day before.

What would he do if he had a choice?

But more disturbing—what was he missing if he continued to do as his father had expected?

Could there be a middle ground? Could he continue his position with Trade Wynd but also pursue something that he would enjoy or did he need to sacrifice one for the other? If so, what did he truly want?

Damian leaned against the door and glanced at the bed where Georgie remained asleep, her dark, curly hair spread out on the pillow about her head as a halo.

He wanted her.