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Josie
“Bloody hell!” The explosive curse, combined with the sudden lack of warmth surrounding her, had Josie lurching to wakefulness. Sitting up straight in bed, disoriented, she cast a frantic gaze around, but all she saw was Elijah rolling away from her, wincing as he did so.
The evening came back to her in a rush—her worried pacing to his return home and his injuries to their lovemaking before falling asleep in his bed. That was partly why she was so disoriented. She was in his room for the first time, and she had spent the entire night there, wrapped up in his arms. That was why she was cold—he had rolled away from her, depriving her of his warmth.
She could not be too angry when she saw the bandages and was reminded of his wounds.
“Are you all right? What hurts?” Going onto her knees, Josie let the sheet drop. The curtains were still drawn, though she could see sunlight coming in through the edges, letting her know it was well into the morning. She was surprised Daisy had not—oh right. Of course. Daisy would have checked Josie’s room and, not finding her there, would be waiting until Josie reappeared.
“Nothing!” Elijah snapped, turning with a glare that had Josie rocking back on her heels and snatching the covers back up to hold against her as if they were some kind of protection. The look in his eyes softened, but he still had storm clouds over his face, clearly upset about something.
“Then what on earth is the matter?”
“You slept in here last night!”
Josie’s jaw dropped open. Really?! That was what he was making such a fuss about? Her presence in his bed? The pain that lanced through her chest was sharper than a knife, stabbing deep and emanating outward. Despite how angry she had been at him last night, falling asleep in his bed had felt like a new step forward, like an emotional hurdle they had overcome together, and an indication his feelings for her had grown along similar lines as hers for him. Discovering otherwise was gutwrenching.
“What does that matter?” she snapped, tightening her hold on the bedsheets as she scooted back and off the other side of the bed, wrapping them around her. If he was going to snap at her, he did not get to look at her nudity. It also made her feel less vulnerable.
“I did not mean that the way it sounded.” Elijah scrubbed his hands through his dark hair, leaving it wild and sticking up on top. Another time, she might have giggled, but right now, she was too hurt and angry to find amusement in his appearance. Unlike her, he seemed perfectly comfortable naked as he paced back and forth. “But Devon saw you.”
Devon was Elijah’s valet, a perfectly affable chap and hardly the kind of prig who would take issue with them sharing Elijah’s room rather than sleeping separately, as was fashionable. Even if he had been, Josie could not see the issue. Why should they care what the valet thought? She wanted to keep Daisy’s good opinion, but if Daisy were to judge her for something, which was none of her business, that would hardly be Josie’s problem.
“Oh, well, sound the alarm. The valet knows we slept in the same bed.” Extremely grumpy now, Josie stalked toward her door. She did not have to sit there and take this abuse. The inside of her chest ached as though she had been dealt a physical blow, far deeper and more painful than any hurt Joseph had ever managed to inflict on her. Elijah could hurt her far worse because her feelings for him had become far deeper… for all the good that knowledge did her.
“He could tell someone, and that could put you in danger!” Elijah roared, throwing his hands out.
Josie spun about to look at him, eyes widening in shock, as much at his loss of control as his words.
“Me in danger?” That did not make any sense. How could sleeping in Elijah’s bed put her in danger?
As if only now realizing what he had just said, Elijah suddenly straightened up, his mouth snapping shut and jaw clenching. Josie scowled, taking a step toward him.
“What on earth did you mean by that, Elijah?”
Elijah
Hell and damnation. He was never at his best first thing in the morning, and this particular morning, he might even be at his worst. Thrown off by Josie’s presence in his bed, too worried to watch his tongue, and not thinking about the consequences, he had blurted out the truth.
“Elijah.”
Josie snapped out his name, and he pressed the heels of his hands to his temples. Why did it suddenly feel like his head was pounding? He had not imbibed much the night before, yet it felt as though he’d swallowed a whole barrel of ale. From the moment Devon had opened the door—immediately closing it, waking Elijah up enough to wonder why, then realizing it was because Devon had seen Josie in his bed and had chosen not to disturb them—it was as though his whole brain stopped.
“Elijah, don’t you dare ignore me!”
“The note I received on our wedding day threatened my life,” he finally answered, unable to think of a reason not to at this juncture. He had meant to keep her well out of things, but she would be like a dog with a bone if he did not fess up now. “It clearly was directed at me, and only me, after I married you and thwarted the traitor’s plan to distract my father with a scandal between you and Joseph.”
Her face went from pink with anger to sickly pale.
“You should have told me!”
“What good would that have done, other than worry you?” Elijah asked, throwing his hands up. Of course, that was her response, illogical though it was.
“How would you feel if I told you I had received a threat upon my life weeks ago, too?” Josie spat out the words, and Elijah froze.
He had not even considered the possibility, which now seemed like a massive oversight. Josie had not been a part of the threat. He did not want Josie to be part of the threat. No matter what happened to him, he needed to know she was safe.
“When?” he demanded, springing into action and virtually leaping toward her across the room. Clutching the bedsheets to her chest with one hand, she held up the other, shaking her head.
