Lydia was finally fulfilling her promise. Of course, it took a sleeping potion that Doctor West had put together that went into Nicholas' drinks and his food. As each day passed, she was certain his ribs were healing nicely, and the bruises on his face had almost disappeared.

Mrs. Hansen, who owned the hotel, or her daughter, Samantha, acted as Lydia's chaperones whenever she was in Nicholas' room. Thankfully, he slept a lot, and on those occasions when he was awake, he looked at her with glassy eyes and talked in a drunken slur.

"How is our patient today?" Mrs. Hansen bustled bubbly into the room as she brought in a tray of food.

Lydia had been sitting in the cushioned chair, reading a mystery novel, and the middle-aged hotel owner's happy voice jerked her out of her story. Blinking, she sat up straight and closed her book. She glanced at Nicholas, who was still sleeping. She almost felt sorry for him since the doctor's concoction kept the patient asleep most of the day.

"He's still asleep," Lydia answered with a smile.

"Perhaps we should wake him up to eat a little something."

Lydia nodded and stood, placing her book on the chair as she hoped she could return to the story soon. She was certain she had the mystery figured out, and she was anxious to see if she was right. Figuring out mysteries what one of her favorite things to do.

She moved to the bed and stopped. Poor Nicholas needed a shave, but she didn't dare do it for him. Touching his face in that manner would remind her of the time they'd spent alone in the glade right after she'd discovered her sister was in love with Lydia's mail-order groom.

She placed her hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Agent Drake? Wake up. It's time to eat."

After a few seconds without him stirring, she shook him harder. This time when she spoke, it was louder. "Nicholas Drake, wake up."

Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. His gaze met Lydia first before jumping to Mrs. Hansen. Confusion filled his expression as he glanced around the room briefly. When his gaze rested on Lydia, his face relaxed, and he sighed.

Her heart fluttered, and she wished it hadn't. At least he recognized her and wasn't upset about her being in his room. For now, anyway.

"Nicholas," she said, "do you want to sit up so you can eat?"

Nodding, he scooted to a sitting position as Lydia placed pillows behind him to prop him up. She'd done this before, but today he didn't wince and hold his bruised ribs. She prayed that meant he was healing.

"How are you feeling today, Agent Drake?" Mrs. Hansen asked as she set the tray of food on his lap. "Your face is looking better and better each day."

He took the glass of milk and sipped it. "How long have I been here?"

"Five days." Mrs. Hansen moved to the window and pulled the drapes open a little more.

Lydia couldn't tell if Nicholas was scowling or just cringing to the brighter light in the room. But at least he was slightly more alert this time. Then again, once he ate his breakfast, she was sure the doctor had Mrs. Hansen laced it with the sleeping draught, and poor Agent Drake would be drifting back to sleep.

"My lovely daughter, Samantha," Mrs. Hansen continued, "has been assisting Miss Swanson with tending to your care."

He nodded. "Yes, I do recall seeing another woman in my room." He paused as his gaze narrowed on the middle-aged woman. "Are you the one who has been drugging me?"

Mrs. Hansen's shocked gasp ripped through the air as Lydia tried not to laugh. Although it wasn't funny, seeing the older woman's expression was priceless.

"How dare you insinuate—"

"I didn't insinuate," Nicholas quickly replied. "It was a fair-enough question since I've been asleep for five days while you ladies tend to my needs."

"Agent Drake," Lydia said, still trying not to laugh, "Mrs. Hansen did not purposely drug you. It was the doctor's order that we give you this for your body to heal quickly. And, if you ask me, I think it's working."

Nicholas scowled. "No, I didn't ask you." His hand moved to his ribs as he slowly rubbed. "However, my ribs do feel better."

It was difficult to hold back her grin. The Pinkerton agent thought he knew everything, and it was a relief to see that she had won this argument since he wins most of the time. "I'm very happy to hear that."

"Then, will one of you fetch the doctor so that I can convince him to stop drugging me?"

Mrs. Hansen's sour expression didn't chance when she nodded. "I'll do it." She motioned to Lydia. "Feed him while I'm gone." She spun around and marched out of the room.

"Feed me?" Nicholas growled and shook his head. "I am not an animal."

"Calm down." Lydia touched his arm. "I'm certain Mrs. Hansen didn't mean anything of the sort. She's been very kind. Both her and Samantha."

"Well, I don't want your help any longer. I can feed myself." He lifted the spoon off the tray and pushed it into the bowl of oatmeal.

Lydia sat back and watched him shovel the food into his mouth like a starved person. It didn't take long before his eyelids dropped, and the strength in his arm weakened. Part of her felt sorry for him, but once she remembered how stubborn he was and not grateful at all, she changed her mind. Perhaps this lesson in humility would make him a better person.

Finally, he rested his hand on the tray as he stared at the half-eaten oatmeal. Helplessness was his expression now.

"Do you want me to help you?" she asked in a soft voice.

His frown deepened as he kept his gaze on the bowl. "You don't understand how hard this is for me, Lydia. I don't enjoy asking for help when I know I can do it myself."

Her chest tightened. "Yes, I do understand, Nicholas. But if someone – like me – offers you help, the polite way to answer is yes, thank you."

She only had to wait a few seconds before his gaze shifted to hers. "Yes, thank you."

It surprised her why he wasn't being sarcastic, but maybe the doctor's sleeping concoction was taking its toll on Nicholas' mind already because it was for certain affecting his movements.

She reached over and slid the spoon from his hand before dipping it into the oatmeal. "All right. Open up." She lifted it to his mouth, and he didn't fight her.

Their gazes locked as he chewed his food. It bothered her to have him look at her with glassy eyes. His relaxed expression reminded her so much of that time they had kissed. Oh, why couldn't she just forget about that? It would make her life so much easier.

"I don't like feeling weak around you," he said.

"Why is that, I wonder? Do you not enjoy it when a woman takes care of you?"

"I hadn't needed a woman's care since my mother died when I was eleven."

She now recalled one of the things that had drawn her to Nicholas in the first place. They had both lost their mothers at a young age. "Nicholas, it doesn't make you any less of a man just because a woman has to help feed you."

He snorted on a laugh. "Not in my eyes."

She smiled. "Well, your eyes are dazed over right now, so it's obvious that you aren't seeing correctly."

He shook his head. "No, I can see just fine, and you're mighty pretty today, Miss Swanson."

Lydia's heartbeat skipped happily. He shouldn't have said that. "Then I believe that you aren't thinking correctly, now. After all, you would never say that to me."

"You're probably right." He chuckled. "But just because I don't say it doesn't mean I don't think it."

Lydia held her breath, wishing her heartbeat wasn't accelerating at a dangerous speed right now. She needed to stop his mouth from rambling on. What if he was still talking this way when Mrs. Hansen or her daughter entered the room? There was no way Lydia wanted to explain anything.

"Here, why don't you take another bite." She scooped up more oatmeal and brought it to his mouth. "I'm sure you're getting tired now, and so let's finish the bowl before you fall asleep."

He stopped her by wrapping his fingers around her wrist, but he didn't push her away. Instead, he took the spoon away from her and placed it in the bowl. "I'm not hungry for food."

Nicholas pulled her closer. She struggled not to follow, but his hypnotic eyes kept her transfixed. "No, Nicholas. You need to sleep."

"I'm tired of sleeping." He used both hands to urge her forward. "I want to kiss you, my dear Lydia."

She really should laugh. After all, it was the sleeping medicine that made him talk this way. She must stay strong and fight the urge to see if he kissed as good as he'd done a month ago. Yet, she didn't want Mrs. Hansen or Samantha to catch them being improper.

"No, Nicholas." She pressed her hands on his chest. "You must close your eyes now."

"I will, once our mouths meet passionately."

She laughed, but it came out throaty and seductive. "Nicholas, you're clearly not thinking straight. I'm not the only one taking care of you. Have you forgotten about the other two women who are helping me?"

He glanced toward the door and then back at her. "No, I haven't forgotten, but I understand your hesitation." He winked. "So, quickly kiss me now before they return."

"Not now, Nicholas."

"Later?"

Later? Of course, that was not an option, either. But she must put him off. He would hate her for taking advantage of him in this condition, and she wouldn't forgive herself for being so weak, either. "Yes, later." She cupped his face. "Now, close your eyes and find your dreams."

The smile stayed on his face as his eyes closed. "You are in my dreams, Lydia. You have been since we first met."

She pulled away, and thankfully, he didn't stop her. By the way his chest rose and fell slowly, she realized he was now asleep.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she moved back to the cushioned chair on wobbly legs and sat. She didn't think she could do this much longer. She was weak, and thoughts of him kissing her only made her weakness worse. She could not let that happen again.