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“I imagine her body is resting and healing. If she sleeps past noon, you have my permission to gently wake her.” Steffan chuckled, but Curt could imagine ‘gently waking her,’ and it involved gently pressing his lips to her forehead. When she woke up and looked at him with those golden-brown eyes, he’d be right close by, and who knew what might happen?
No. He had to stop.
“She’s driving me insane,” Curt admitted to his brother.
“And that’s bad news?”
“It is,” Curt insisted, pacing through the living area and then back to the kitchen. “I’m worried about her, but I selfishly want to get to know her, date her, hold her.” He should not have admitted any of that to his brother.
Steffan’s chuckle was just annoying. “I thought you two had a connection.” His voice got serious. “Take it slow. She’s under your protection and care right now, and it would be very un-gentlemanly of you to take advantage of her trust or vulnerability.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Curt bit back. “Sorry. Forget I said anything. So just keep her calm and don’t let her overexert herself?” Steffan had called to give him medical advice, not dating advice. He knew he couldn’t take advantage of Aliya’s vulnerability. If only she wouldn’t be flying back home as soon as she was healed.
“There has been new research that light exercise after a concussion can aid healing rather than hurt it, but I doubt Ray will let you take her on even a short hike.”
“I don’t want her out in the open in case those men are still in the area.”
“Yeah. Well, good luck. I know how you loathe being cooped up inside. Maybe Aliya will be enough of a distraction that you won’t mind so much.”
Curt kept pacing. He wasn’t so sure about that. Even in bad weather, he put on top-quality gear and got outside. Even if he only made it to his shop out back to tinker with one of his dozens of projects. His brothers used to say he was the king of wood-working projects, but now he started and never completed anything.
“Thanks for the help.” He only put a bit of sarcasm into his voice. Steffan was trying to help. It wasn’t his brother’s fault that the beautiful woman upstairs was beholden to Curt and vulnerable. Curt had to set boundaries and guard her and guard his heart.
“Anytime. Chat soon.” Steffan was gone.
Curt slid his phone back into his pocket, put away the fruit and drinks, and paced some more.
By nine-thirty, he was back to worrying whether he should wake her. He crept up the stairs and along the wide hallway. He’d just peek, make sure she was breathing, and then he’d back away. He was her caregiver and protector right now. This was nothing personal. A nurse or guard would check on their patient or assignment. That was all that was happening.
He made it to her door, listened for a few beats, and then quietly turned the knob and eased it open a few inches. Peeking into the room, his gaze landed immediately on the beautiful woman lying in the bed. She was curled on her side, her shape outlined by the blanket but thankfully covered. Her luscious lips appeared even fuller and more inviting, her dark lashes were spread across her smooth cheek, the dusting of freckles across her nose made her look younger, and her long dark hair contrasted with the white pillow. She was a vision.
She was also definitely asleep, and he could see her chest rising and falling, so she was definitely breathing.
He needed to back away. He’d done his job. She was safe. She was breathing.
Close the door, his brain commanded.
His body would not listen. His hand was glued to the doorknob, his body frozen in place. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful. Then he had the insane thought that he wanted to wake up next to Aliya every morning for the rest of his life.
That thought got him to quickly close the door. Probably too quickly. It banged, and he winced. He listened but didn’t hear anything. Creeping back down the stairs and to the main level, he felt like a creep. He shouldn’t have rationalized like that and looked at her while she slept. Now all he wanted was to wake her up with a tender kiss.
Curt shook his head and went back to pacing. He caught glimpses of the guards outside and the beautiful summer day wasting away, so he opened up all the windows on the main level to let the fresh air in.
One of the guards approached on the porch and said through the open window, “Prince Curtis? Having the windows open negates the doors being locked.”
“I’m going insane being cooped up without some fresh air,” he admitted to the young man.
“Oh. I understand, sir. We’ll keep a good eye out.”
“Thank you.” He was very grateful to them for watching out, but also for not asking him to shut the windows. The breeze helped. A bit. He needed some sunshine and vitamin D and movement.
At ten-ten, footsteps sounded upstairs. “Finally,” he breathed out. He hurried around, bringing out the breakfast that had been sitting in the warming oven for far too long, juice and milk, and the cut-up fruit. His breakfast looked wilted. He felt a little wilted. How was he going to bear being cooped up and second-guessing himself for the next nine days? That was how long Aliya needed to stay until she could fly home. What if Ray hadn’t found those men and she hadn’t remembered anything? She would still be in danger.
Soft treads came down the stairs, and Curt whirled to face her. He’d thought she was beautiful sleeping. With those golden-brown eyes open and focused on him, her dark hair swirling around her shoulders, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, and a sweet smile on her face, she was exquisite.
“Good mornin’,” she called out. “You made me breakfast?” She stared at him as if he were the best man on earth.
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled and relaxed. Being in her presence made all his stewing from last night and this morning evaporate. Everything would work out. Who needed sunshine when the bright ray of her smile was aimed at him? “It’s a little … not fresh.”
