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‘Did you do this?’

‘No, but just about everyone else who has met you sent flowers—you appear to have made a lot of fans in a very short period of time.’

‘The ones that don’t want to poison me, you mean.’

He winced.

She saw his expression. ‘I’m joking.’

Except it wasn’t a joke, and it never would be. The image of her fighting for breath would live forever in his nightmares. Part of him regretted that he’d not followed his instincts and strangled the rat Tomaz.

‘So, sit down. What would you like to eat?’

‘Nothing. I had some food at the hospital.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘I’m pretty tired,’ she confessed.

‘Right, I’ll run you a bath and you can take a nap.’

‘It’s only—’ she consulted the clock on the marble mantel ‘—four-thirty.’

Her scandalised tone made him smile.

‘Let’s live dangerously.’

The bath was run, the scent of the oil she had poured into it filling the room with fragrant steam as Elsie, wrapped in a towel, contemplated getting in. She was trying to work up the enthusiasm to stand up. She had read somewhere that every task was possible if you split it into small manageable parts, but standing up did not at that moment seem small or manageable.

‘Are you asleep?’

She opened her eyes and saw him standing there.

‘No, I was resting my eyes!’ she retorted.

‘I think maybe supervision is required. I think we have had enough near-death experiences—we don’t want you falling asleep and drowning.’

She really was tired—he was patronising the hell out of her and she didn’t care.

‘Is that the royal we?’ she asked, then sniggered softly at her own weak pun.

‘You’re hilarious, come on.’ He caught her hands and pulled her to her feet and the loosely wrapped towel slipped to the floor.

She stood there, sleek curves and pale pearly skin, with the classical perfection of an alabaster statue brought to warm life. Her beauty touched him in a place he didn’t know existed.

‘Asleep on your feet is a real thing.’

Her eyelids lifted. ‘What are you doing?’

He didn’t reply as he placed her in the warm water.

‘Oh, that’s good,’ she breathed as he began to massage her tight shoulders before cupping the water in his hands and letting it trickle down her shoulders and back, over her rosy peaked breasts.

Elsie closed her eyes as his big hands began to sensually massage her body. She felt the tension slowly leave her as he worked his magic.

‘You’re very good at this, but then you’re very good at everything.’

‘Not everything.’

He lifted her from the bath and wrapped her in a fresh towel. He patted her dry while she leaned against him.

‘I’ve got your shirt wet…’ A small sleepy smile tugged her lips. ‘You could take it off.’