Page 83 of Outrageous

“Shh, you need to know. And what’s more, I suspect I need to tell you.”

Chapter 16

Godric had known the day would come. He’d been behaving like a child hiding behind a tree, believing others couldn’t see him because he couldn’t see them. And look where that had led him—led Eva?

“I know you heard what I said when I was fighting.” He could tell by the way her body went still that she knew what he meant. “My wife died that day—the day I divided my regiment to go back to our encampment after a scout delivered information that it was under attack.”

Godric took a moment to tuck the horror of that day back into its box. She needed to know about Lucia and his family, but nobody—man or woman—needed to know the gory details.

“I’m so sorry about your wife,” she said quietly.

“Thank you.” Godric could not tell her the rest, could not even speak Carl’s name. What could one omission possibly hurt when he had so many other truths to tell her?

“The fighting was brutal and I was badly injured that day. An extended hospital stay was necessary. It was during that time that the Fontainebleau Treaty was signed and, as you likely know, many English people flocked to Europe. My family were among those. The ship they were on encountered two corsair vessels. Rather than surrender, as a wise captain would have done, the captain of the Valiant tried first to outrun the ships and then, when that failed, loaded his six guns and fired. The only reason these details are known is because there were three survivors.”

She gasped. “Oh my God. The ships, were they—”

“Yes, both corsair ship captains swore allegiance to Sultan Assad Hassan.” Godric swallowed the hatred and bile he felt as he proceeded to lay out the faulty logic behind his idiocy. “I had plans to go after the sultan and his cronies, but of course the British Navy took care of that for me when they took Oran.”

“So you came after the only member of the sultan’s family you could find, seeking vengeance.”

“Yes. That is what I did,” he admitted.

“But you know that Assad was the man my brother Gabriel was fighting? He and Assad were sworn enemies.”

“Yes.” How could Godric explain that it hadn’t mattered—that the truth hadn’t mattered? That he’d burned from the inside out for a target—any target—for his pain and hatred.

“I understand—I do,” she repeated, as if he’d said something. “That doesn’t mean I think what you did was right, but I have to admit I could see myself doing the same thing in your situation. Will you tell me who was on the ship?”

He drew in a shaky breath. “My parents, my two brothers, their wives, my nephews—twelve and fourteen—and my sister, who was nineteen.”

Eva awkwardly turned herself in his arms, until they were chest to chest. He was grateful she could not see the grief that gutted him. “I’m so terribly sorry, Godric.” She pressed her face against his, the wetness on her cheeks mingling with his. “So terribly sorry.”

He pulled her tight and held her, and for the first time in over a year, he did not mourn his loss alone.

* * *

Eva had no idea what woke her. The room was dark and silent and, for a brief moment, her mind worked to sort out the singular sensation of having another body—naked—pressed against hers.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

Godric’s deep, low voice rumbled through her body.

“How long have I slept?”

“Not long, perhaps an hour.”

“And you?”

“I’m afraid not.” She heard the tired smile in his voice.

“This insomnia you have, is there nothing you can do for it?”

His arm tightened and he said, “Sometimes exertion helps. When I am at home, I will hit the heavy sandbag I keep for that purpose. Or go riding at first light. Or any number of things that might help exhaust me.”

Eva’s body thrummed at the suggestion hovering just between his words. She swallowed to force down the lump that was obstructing her throat. “And is there not something we could do now?”

“There is.”