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Scowling, she reached for the tube of antibiotic cream lying on the table beside the bed and unscrewed the cap.

The bathroom door opened. Nikolas emerged, freshly shaved, water-spangled, black hair falling in damp commas across his forehead, a towel loosely knotted around lean hips…and every cranky negative thought flew right out of her head. Something warm and sweet enveloped her. like delicious perfume carried on a soft summer wind. She felt her face being taken over by a smile she knew was besotted, even goofy, and there seemed to be nothing she could do to make it leave. In a daze, she watched him come toward her, and felt herself filling up with a tingly, effervescent joy.

"Hello, you." he said as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her, smiling with such undisguised tenderness it made her throat quiver. Warmth radiated from his still-damp body, along with the scents of aftershave and soap. He took the tube of cream from her and sniffed it. Lifted one eyebrow. "This the stuff the doctor gave you?"

She nodded; speech was beyond her just then.

He squeezed a bit of the cream onto his finger and touched it gently to a welt just above her collarbone. "Shh…" he said when she winced. And then, to distract her, she suspected: "Did you get all reported in?"

She nodded, then countered in a tightly controlled voice. "Did you get through to the palace?"

"I did." He was watching his fingers, intent on his task. Gazing down at him. she forgot about pain…thought how utterly beautiful his lashes were…thick and black and long. A woman would kill for those lashes… "Spoke with Russell- Lord Carrington-himself, actually. He's increased security…put the palace on high alert."

"Do you really think Vladimir's going after the king?" He was so near…she had to clutch the sheet in handfuls to keep from touching him. She wanted so badly to touch him…to smooth away the frown of concern that had gathered between his eyebrows.

But if she touched him, she wouldn't stop there, and that wouldn't be fair to him. She squirmed inwardly, thinking of the way she'd behaved earlier, in the lighthouse cottage. She wouldn't do that do him again.

He flashed her a look and a wiy smile. "You were a wee bit preoccupied, so you probably didn't hear what Vlad was screaming when he tore out of the cottage. It was all pretty insane, but I did hear some dire threats against the king's person." The smile faded. "It wouldn't surprise me, since all his plans have fallen apart anyway, if he's decided to go out with a bang and take the man he blames for his misfortune along with him."

"I don't see how he could get to him. He'd have to get past the palace security, which I'd think would have a difficulty factor along the lines of…oh. I don't know, breaking into Fort Knox or stealing the British crown jewels."

"He's done it before." Nikolas said grimly.

Rhia watched the tiny muscle working in the side of his jaw. and after a moment said softly. "You're worried about him, aren't you? King Weston, I mean. You really do care about him."

He lifted a shoulder, watching his fingers tap cream onto a blistered patch of her chest with the delicacy of a watchmaker. "Of course I care. He's the king. His murder would be a national tragedy."

"A personal one, too, I think. You haven't even had a chance to get to know him yet-your father." She caught a breath, trying so hard not to flinch. "He's a good man Nik. And you're very much like him, you know. You should be there with him. If we leave now, we could-"

"Tomorrow's soon enough."

"But-"

He leaned over and kissed her, just thoroughly enough to make her tingle all the way down to her toes. Then he pulled back just far enough to murmur. "Do shut up and relax, won't you? Right now, all I want to do is make you feel better. Let's see…didn't you tell me this is what works best?" His lips, firm and warm, the texture of satin, slid across hers…nibbled at their sensitive insides. He caught the lower one between his teeth when she pouted and sucked it gently, laughing low in his throat.

Her hands fisted in the sheets. Freeing her mouth from that exquisite torment, she whispered. "You're supposed to kiss the owie. But I don't think I could stand…"

He lowered his head, and his hair, cool and damp from the shower, tickled her throat. "Hmm…how about if I kiss it close to the owie? Like…here? Would that hurt?" And she felt the warm, liquid laving of his tongue on her neck…then a hot, drawing pressure.

"Oh-" She drew a shuddering gasp. Then, faintly whispered. "No…" How had her hands escaped from the knotted sheets and found their way to his hair, touching it half fearfully, as if it were soap bubbles, or thistledown?

"Hmm…how about here, then?" And again…the gentle stroking, first, then the heat. She felt it in her breasts, the soles of her feet, and between her thighs. "And here…" It was all she could do not to moan. "And…this lovely little nipple seems quite untouched…"

Same thing-tongue caress…gentle sucking-but this time the sensation that arrowed through her to the swelling, heating place between her legs was sharp and raw. and the gasp slipped from her throat before she knew. The muscles in her back and legs contracted. Her chest rose and fell with her quickening breaths, lifting her distended breast to him. pushing her nipple deeper into his mouth. Pain was forgotten completely, she clutched at his shoulders, wanting him…on her… inside her…everywhere. Never mind the blisters. Nothing else mattered.

He lifted his head…his hair in silky feathers on his forehead, eyes full of a shimmering softness… and smiled at her with such-the word that came into her mind, like the lyrics to a well-loved song, was sweetness. And she giggled- couldn't help it-because it seemed such an unlikely word to apply to the next king of Silvershire.

"Ah, feeling better already, are we?" His voice was a husky growl that only fed the fire inside her.

"You're a very good doctor," she whispered, threading her fingers through the longish hair on the back of his neck.

"Hmm…and I've always wanted to play doctor." The angelic smile tried hard to turn itself into a leer.

"You have a very nice bedside manner, but I think… you've left some of my injuries…oh-" Her voice hitched to a new octave as he lowered his mouth to the hollow below her rib cage. She sucked in air and her stomach muscles tensed.

"Relax, my love…" His breath flowed like warm oil over her taut skin. His hands moved slowly down her sides, stroking…gentling… following the curve of her waist and hips… then retreated to the waistband of the boxers. His fingers hooked into the elastic and drew them down, baring her belly to his questing mouth.

She held his head in her hands, glorying in the silken flow of his hair over her fingers. Her eyes closed… her eyelids felt heavy and warm, as if the sun was shining brightly on her face. She felt her whole body swell and ripen…and her heart did, too, until she felt it would surely burst inside her. and all the love she felt for him come pouring out. I can't…I can't. Can't let him know… She bit down on her lip. fighting to keep the words inside. And focused intently…fiercely…on the physical sensations that were nearly tearing her apart.

She scarcely felt it when he slipped the boxers off. Her legs, obeying his gentle command, parted as easily, as naturally as a flower opening at the behest of the sun. It felt like the sun's touch, too. the way his hands seemed to heat all of her skin at once…a sizzling heat that spread over her body…her stomach, her legs and her buttocks. She arched and stretched in the lovely warmth, sensuously, like a cat.

And then his mouth found her center…moved to claim it for his own. His tongue licked over her…into her…and the heat coalesced into a searing white-hot ball that exploded through her like a supernova. Time ceased; she lost all sense of place… didn't hear herself cry out as her body rocketed through a pulsing void, completely out of control…