“I’m sorry.”

Christy stroked Robert’s hair as he lay beside her, his head on her shoulder, his arm around her hips. They were both sweaty and sticky, and neither cared a bit. She’d never had this with a lover, this kind of after-the-fact affection and closeness. Harry had cried and confessed he loved Daniel. John Coachman had rolled over and gone to sleep, ignoring her. And Simon…well, theirs had been a hurried affair, clandestine, with no time for affectionate cuddles like this.

If she wasn’t so thoroughly satisfied, she’d be angry on her own behalf for what she’d been denied. But then, she hadn’t demanded it, had she? She was learning that she had to ask for what she wanted.

“Why are you sorry?” Robert asked in that sleepy voice she loved so very much. No one else got to hear that voice. Just her. It was an intimacy she cherished.

She brushed his hair out of the way and kissed his forehead. “For not telling you sooner what I wanted.”

“Ah,” Robert said. He was quiet for quite a long time. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She let her fingers dance across his broad shoulders. “I have always been the girl no one wanted, you know,” she told him, trying not to sound pitiful. “When my parents died and I was stuck with my aunt and uncle, I tried not to ask for too much or make myself a nuisance because I wanted them to like me. When I was engaged to Harry and he came back from Portugal to marry me, I didn’t say anything and just did what I was told because I just wanted everyone to like me and to finally have a place. And then for ten years I lived alone in a little house in a little village where no one liked me and no one bothered to get to know me because I was an outsider with no husband present. I practically had to beg John Coachman to be my lover, and once again I never asked for anything, I just took what he was willing to give because I was so desperate to be close to anyone. How sad I was.”

Robert had opened his eyes and was looking up at her now, his hand stroking her hip. She bit her lip and then decided that Robert deserved the truth.

“And Simon…I did ask Simon. I asked him to be my lover, but I didn’t have to beg, not like before. He wanted me. And, well, he showed me what it was like to be wanted. And I liked it. I liked how it felt. And I wanted it again. I wanted it with you.” She cupped his cheek. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said. “I believe you.” There was something in his eyes, something lurking there that she couldn’t decipher. “You shall always be wanted by me, Christy, and this will always be your place if you want it.” He took her hand and kissed her palm. “Tell me what happened this morning. I almost lost you.”

“Nonsense,” she said with a chuckle. “There was just a strange little man who hailed me, and then a tall, thin man grabbed him and pulled him away into the crowd.”

“I believe those strange men were assassins,” Robert told her. “The first one most likely meant to kill you, my love.”

She felt lightheaded for a moment. “What?” she whispered.

“From now on there will be more men stationed out side, and you will only leave in a carriage with a full armed guard, and only when necessary. Understood?” he asked.

“Yes, I understand,” she agreed. “I promised Simon as much earlier. But who was the other man? The one who stopped him?”

“I’m not sure. I dare not hope one of them is actually on our side,” he said. “For now, we will treat them all as hostile. My main concern is keeping you safe. You and Christian.”

“Oh, Robert,” she whispered.

She was about to kiss him when there was a shout from Simon’s room. Both she and Robert sat up immediately, their intimacy torn apart by the broken cry.

“Simon,” she said, though it was clear Robert knew it as well as she.

In seconds he was off the bed. He grabbed his robe and was out the door so quickly she was sure he hadn’t had time to put it on. She was clumsier than he, unable to spring into action from the lethargy of sexual satisfaction with such alacrity. Her wrapper was securely tied before she dashed from the room and down the hall to Simon’s.

When she entered Simon’s room, shock stopped her in her tracks. Robert was sitting on the bed and Simon was in his arms, and Simon clung to him, both arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. It took a moment to register that Robert was murmuring soothing sounds to Simon, rocking him gently, almost like he did with Christian when he woke in the night.

She caught Robert’s look above Simon’s head and she could see he was distressed. When she cautiously came closer, she could see that Simon was shaking, and his hair was plastered to his head with sweat.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.

“N-nothing,” Simon stuttered, pushing away from Robert. “A stupid dream is all.” As he twisted away, he gasped and his hand went to his back.

“Your back,” Christy said, concerned. “Let me see it.”

“No.” Simon awkwardly gathered the sheet around him, looking pale and sweaty and miserable.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Robert said sharply. “Come here.” He held out his hand and stared Simon down. To Christy’s surprise, Simon relented, but on his terms.

“Fine,” he said. He pointed behind him. “Take a look.”

Christy looked at Robert, who nodded. She lit the lamp on the nearby table and walked around the bed. She’d seen it earlier, in the bath, so she was prepared for the sight of the angry red, puckered slash. But the cruelty of it still hit her like a fist in her stomach. She swallowed with difficulty before speaking.

“It looks…dry, I guess you would say. Tight. Is that how it feels?” she asked. She tentatively reached out and touched it lightly with her fingertips.

Simon flinched. “Yes,” he said. “Tight. That’s a good word for it. It feels like it’s going to tear apart every time I move.”

“I have some wound salve,” Christy said. “Not much. Or some kind of hand cream?” She really wasn’t sure what to put on it, but she knew it needed something with moisture.

“I have something. In my bag,” Simon told her. “The doctor gave it to me. It’s in a little glass jar.”

“I’ll get it,” Christy said. She set the lamp down and went to get it from his bag.

“How long since you’ve put it on?” Robert asked. “I doubt you can do it yourself.”

“No, I’m no contortionist. I guess since I got back.” Simon sounded tired. Not just sleepy tired, but bone-weary tired. Christy didn’t like the sound of him.

“I wish you had told me after your bath,” she said. “I would have applied it for you.” She blushed at the memory of what had occurred after his bath, hoping that Robert couldn’t see.

“Yes, well, I didn’t think of it at the time,” was all Simon said, bless him.

Christy started to put some salve on Simon’s back, but every time she touched him he jerked away.

“Here, lay down,” Robert said impatiently. “She can’t put it on with you flinching away like that.”

“Robert,” she chided.

“No, he’s right,” Simon said.

He slowly went down, first onto his hands and knees and then he was about to go to his stomach when both men realized that Robert was in the way. Simon was lying almost crosswise on the bed. Robert started to get up.

“No,” Simon said. “Stay there.”

Robert slowly sat back down where he’d been, his back up against the headboard.

“Put your feet up, too,” Simon said, gesturing.

Robert did as he was instructed. Christy didn’t say a word. Simon finally lay down, gingerly settling himself with his head resting on Robert’s thigh, his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Robert had the look of a hunted deer, wild about the eyes as he looked between Christy and Simon.

“Not a word,” Simon said. “If I have to endure this torture, so do you. Hold onto my arms so I don’t flinch so much.”

Christy was trying very hard not to think about the fact that Robert was nude under this robe. She was quite sure Robert was trying very hard not to think about it either. The thought almost made her laugh.

“Um, I’m going to have to climb up on the bed to apply this,” she said apologetically. “I’m far too short to reach your back now.”

“I forgot what a little thing you are,” Simon muttered, sounding utterly relaxed now that he was in Robert’s lap. “Go ahead.”

She peeked and could see that his eyes were closed. That made climbing up on the bed in her wrapper much easier, since she, too, was nude underneath. After she climbed up, she readjusted the robe to cover her exposed breasts and thighs. She looked up and met Robert’s amused gaze, and shrugged with a smile.

When she began to rub the salve into Simon’s back, he tensed beneath her hand. For several minutes his muscles were so tight he began to shake again. Christy was as gentle as she could be. Eventually she felt the tension leaving him as she massaged the thick unguent in. It smelled like lavender and honey, with the underlying unpleasantness of calendula, which wasn’t awful.

She looked up and saw that Robert wasn’t just holding Simon’s arms, he was rubbing them soothingly. A quick glance at his face convinced her he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. But he was watching Simon resting in his lap with the oddest look on his face.

“That feels good now,” Simon mumbled.

“What?” she asked, confused at first. “Oh, good.”

“Tell us about the dream,” Robert told him quietly.

Simon tensed under her hands again. “Just a stupid dream.”

“I don’t think so,” Robert said. “Try again.”

“My back feels better.”

Simon moved as if to get up. Christy quickly straddled his thighs, preventing it.

“Simon, tell us what upset you so,” she urged him. “We want to help.”

“No one can help,” he said harshly. “Get off of me.”

“Tell us about the dream,” Robert said again. “It will feel better if you tell us. It will lose its hold on you.”

“What do you know of dreams like that?” Simon asked angrily. “Damn it, Christy, get off me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He moved his legs and then froze. “Christ. Are you naked under that?”

“Well, I was in bed,” she said. “What did you expect? That I’d taken the time to get fully dressed? Have you any idea how long that takes?”

He laughed in disbelief. “Ever practical.” He slumped back down and then his head popped back up. “Oh my God, Robert. Are you…”

“Yes,” Robert said. He ran his hand through Simon’s hair and pushed his head back down into his lap.

Christy was bemused by the affectionate gesture. It was one she’d expect of Daniel or Harry. She’d never seen Robert do that to another man before.

There were undercurrents here she didn’t understand. If these were any other two men, she’d say it was attraction. She’d been around Daniel and Harry and their friends enough to recognize it. But Robert had never shown any interest in another man. And while she knew Simon had a rather colorful romantic past, he hadn’t shown an interest in Robert before.

But they’d been working together quite closely on their current case. Had something happened between them?

Was something happening now?

And if it was, how did she feel about that? She’d been so pleased to finally be the one someone wanted, both with Simon and then Robert. She wasn’t sure how she felt about possibly having to share her newfound place.

But as she watched Simon lay his head down in Robert’s lap and Robert lay his hand on Simon’s head and stroke his brow with his thumb, she realized she might not have a choice.