The room was small and sparsely furnished. There was only his bed, which was just large enough to fit two people if they squeezed in...of course, this is where his mind went to immediately. Lust. Seduction. This vision before him was perhaps one and twenty years old and quite exquisite if he was to compare her to every other woman he’d ever known. She had long, auburn hair, vibrant green eyes, and a body men would sell their souls to possess.
“Mine is Genalynn.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Just Genalynn? What is your family name?”
She nibbled her lip, a mannerism that revealed she was fretting again. “It isn’t important.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Ah, we’re back to that again. The fact that you won’t reveal it to me indicates that quite the opposite is true. It is very important and you are afraid my knowing it will put you and your loved ones in danger.”
She kept silent.
“Very well, Just Genalynn. Have it your way for now.”
There was a chair in the room, as well. She’d been sitting in it in the corner when he’d first opened his eyes. There was also an old, faded wooden bureau with a basin and ewer sitting atop it. The hearth was made of stone and dominated the room. It seemed to be too big for the space, but Gideon wasn’t about to complain. The room was warm, and yet his body was still shivering. “Any chance I could get another blanket tossed on the bed?”
She nodded. “I’ll fetch it now. I’ve also made you some broth. Tomorrow you can have something more substantial, but you must not overdo it today.” She touched a hand to his brow and then along his neck and shoulders. “Your body is warm. Hopefully not feverish. But it’s your insides that need heating up.”
He could have tossed a clever retort, but held his tongue. After all, he was naked and she was offering to make him hot. All she had to do was slip her hand beneath his covers and...no, she’d call for Throck to toss him out the window.
In any event, he had a mission to accomplish and needed to recover his strength before his thoughts turned to women. Some would enjoy his seduction, consider it a fine reward for rescuing him. He was good in bed. Women enjoyed his attentions and considered him handsome.
He could give her an unforgettable night of pleasure.
Not now.
“Thank you, Just Genalynn. I’d appreciate the broth. I suppose getting shot makes one rather hungry.” And foggy-brained. Perhaps it was just her spectacular body that made him foggy-brained. He watched her graceful movements as she rose and stepped out of the room.
He really was an unrepentant rogue.
She’d saved his life and all he wanted to do was get her into his bed.
Had he truly fallen so low? He needed this to be his last mission. Indeed, he needed to reclaim the soul he’d lost over the course of his service to the Crown.
But first, he needed to finish what he was sent here to do.
He hoped Genalynn was not involved in the smuggling going on in these parts. She probably was involved in the petty sort because everyone in Cornwall smuggled goods. He wasn’t interested in these smaller, everyday activities. He was looking for the serious smugglers, those who traded military secrets and sold weapons to the enemy.
He considered what he would do if these villains realized she’d been the one to save him. Hopefully, they never would. He did not want to have to choose between risking his life to save her or allowing the villains to silence her. What would he do if she jeopardized his mission?
“Save her, of course,” he muttered to himself. Indeed, he must have fallen low to ever consider sacrificing an innocent. He did not like to think he was that depraved, but there was a hollowness in his heart, an emptiness that would only grow larger if he continued to work as an agent for the Crown.
In truth, he couldn’t live with himself if he allowed any harm to come to her. Others could take up this mission in his place, but no one could replace Genalynn.
He closed his eyes and tried not to think of her, but it was an impossible task.
Who was she?
Why had she saved him?
Chapter 3
Lady Genalynn Winthrop did not know what to make of this injured man she’d just brought into her home. He’d told her his name was Gideon Croft. She did