Free When Strangers Marry by Lisa Kleypas

Lysette stared at his dark face in bewilderment as he arranged the pillows behind her with the expertise of a seasoned nurse.
    Seeming to understand her needs without being told, he brought a cup to her lips, and Lysette drank thirstily, letting the cool water ease her parched mouth and throat. When the cup was removed, she settled against the pillows.
    “I don’t understand why your mother allowed you to take care of me,” she said hoarsely.
    “Maman didn’t approve,” Vallerand admitted, straightening the covers around her. “But she was exhausted after the first few days of nursing, and I was very stubborn.” He smiled wryly. “And later she sadly decided that since you were probably going to die anyway, it didn’t matter who took care of you.”
    Lysette absorbed his words, filled with a deep inner certainty that she would have died without his inexhaustible, patient, all-encompassing care. “You saved my life,” she said faintly. “Why?”
    His fingertip trailed over her freckled cheek. “Because the world would be a much darker and duller place without you, ma chère. ”
    Lysette watched passively as he straightened the articles on the bedside table. Remembering the day she had fallen ill, when she had found the unsent letter to Marie, she recalled that she had good reason to be angry with him. However, that issue could wait until later. No matter what else Vallerand had done, he had seen her through a terrible illness, and for that she owed him her gratitude.
    “If I send for some broth, will you try some?” he asked.
    The thought made Lysette grimace. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but no.”
    “Just a little.” Clearly he was going to pressure her until she relented.
    She frowned and sighed. “A very little.”
    After Vallerand called for Noeline and requested the cup of broth, he returned to the bedside. Lysette toyed listlessly with the edge of the sheet and glanced at him, her gaze traveling from his fur-covered chest to his bristled face. “You’re the hairiest nurse I’ve ever seen,” she said.
    He grinned, his teeth white in his swarthy face. “You can’t afford to be particular,” he informed her. “Until you’re better, petite , you’re going to have to tolerate me.”
     
    When Lysette had recovered enough to desire a change of scene, Max carried her to the downstairs parlor. The stronger she became, the more troubled Lysette was about their developing intimacy.
    In the past three days she had tried to put some distance between them. She no longer allowed him to help bathe her or comb and braid her hair, and only Noeline and Irénée were permitted to help her dress.
    However, as Max lifted her in his arms and carried her downstairs, the treacherous feelings of closeness remained. It did not help that he was being so gentle and attentive. She could almost let herself forget that he had betrayed her and was certainly planning to manipulate her further.
    Reminding herself that she could not let herself be stupid enough to trust him again, Lysette gave him a suspicious frown.
    “What is it?” he asked, shifting her slight weight in his arms. “Are you uncomfortable?”
    “No,” she replied, keeping her arms linked around his neck. “I am merely wondering what your game is, monsieur.”
    He gave her a blank look. “Game?”
    Lysette rolled her eyes at the show of innocence. “The game I have become a pawn in. The one you are playing with Etienne Sagesse. Clearly you had no intention of letting me appeal to my cousin for refuge. You wanted to keep me here, and you’ve succeeded. Now tell me what your plan is.”
    “We won’t discuss that until you’re better,” he muttered.
    “You may as well admit it,” she said. “I’ve already figured out what you want, and how you plan to get it.”
    “Oh?” A hot flicker entered his eyes. “Tell me what you think I want.”
    Before Lysette could answer, he set her carefully on the settee, and Noeline was there to drape a lap