The man glanced at his colleagues, appearing flustered.
Several remedies had been suggested at the time, and some of the most outlandish, such as eating alligator testicles battered in butter, Alexander still recalled. He had not been interested in women, still cut too raw from pain and grief. And over the years, nothing had roused him. His friend George had certainly sent beauties to his castle to entice him to live as mad, bad, and dangerous once more. Alexander had been bored, their high-pitched giggles and lush attractions incapable of touching the empty well inside him.
“I ignored most of the treatment advised then. Eating goat and alligator balls made no sense, and the few poultices made by you, Appleby, simply irritated my balls,” Alexander said drily.
The good doctor flushed.
Dr. Grant stepped forward. “I must ask…how long have you been able to sustain an erection with…ah, this particular lady?”
The memory of the raw desire he’d felt a few nights ago wafted through him with visceral strength. “It was fleeting, but it happened.” And almost every moment when he thought of kissing her, the ache low in his gut grew until he felt mad from want.
The doctor cleared his throat and, prudently refusing to meet his eye, said, “Might I encourage you, Your Grace, to attempt, ah…another connection with this lady, a sustained connection?”
Alexander considered the man. “She is not a doxy but a lady.”
Dr. Grant tilted his head. “I understand, Your Grace. I would urge you to consider self-ministrations for a few nights. I’ve never believed your nerves there to be completely damaged, simply that y
our mind…was uninterested. And if the mind is locked away from thoughts of pleasure, the body will remain unresponsive.”
Dr. Monroe surged to his feet, a fierce scowl on his ruddy face. “What nonsense! Self-ministration is harmful to the body and mind!”
Grant scowled and, in an unlikely fashion, rolled his eyes.
Alexander was aware of the different theories in society on self-pleasure. Dr. Grant had brought the matter to him a few years ago, and he hadn’t dwelled on it, simply because the emptiness had been spreading, taking all that was light and painting his world in dull shades of gray. But now he could see…and feel himself lying atop the cool crispness of his sheets, taking his manhood in hand, and stroking it…with visions of her, smiling, flashing an ankle, touching him, kissing him. The elegance of her spine, which had been revealed when he’d undressed her in the cabin. How desperately he’d wanted to run his tongue along her curves.
The memory of her sweet mouth and purrs of pleasure had heat rolling through him like a violent wave. Uttering a low curse beneath his breath, Alexander pushed such thoughts from his mind. With an annoyance unlike him, he dismissed the doctors after issuing his customary invitation to dinner, which they accepted.
What am I to do about you, Katherine Danvers?
Chapter Fourteen
Alexander wheeled himself from the library down the hall to his room of solace. With a pained grunt, he eased from the confines of the chair, stood, and opened the door. He lowered himself back into the bath chair and wheeled himself into the room.
A faint sound had him gently closing the door and propelling toward the back of the room where the shelves stretched toward the high ceiling. He faltered at the presence of Katherine on her knees before one of his wooden boxes. Plucking an item from the box recently shipped from Egypt, she stood and held it up to the light pouring in from the window. It was a necklace with a scarab amulet. She studied it for a while, running delicate fingers over the back of the scarab. With an evident thrill, she placed it back in the box with care and withdrew another item.
He couldn’t help smiling at the large ivory-shaped phallus in her delicate hands. Moving with desperate stealth, he eased from the chair without making a sound. Then carefully, he placed one foot before the other, ignoring the slight pinch in his lower back, and made his way over to her.
“What is it?” she muttered to herself, running her fingers along the surprisingly veined ridge.
Softly at her ear, he said, “I’m not sure if I should distress your sensibilities and tell you.”
With a gasp, she spun around, pressing a hand over her heart. A pulse was beating visibly at her throat. “Oh, you abominable creature! To sneak up on me in such a wicked manner!”
“Ah,” he said, gently tapping one of his fingers on her nose. “You deserve to be frightened. This room is forbidden to guests, which I am sure you were aware of. Your impudence is unchecked.”
She thought for a moment and then said, with a gleam of mischief, “Oh, don’t be tiresome; this impudence you keep mentioning is clearly a part of my charm, and I daresay you like it.”
Katherine was irresistibly fascinating. Slowly, deliberately, he dipped his head to her arched neck and pressed his lips to the fluttering pulse at her throat. “I do like your bold, willful, inquisitive nature,” he murmured against the softness of her skin, and to his utter astonishment, his voice cracked.
“Alexander?” How breathless and shocked she sounded.
Common sense reasserted itself, and he stepped back. She stared at him with wide, questioning eyes, the ivory phallus clenched in her hands.
“Why are you in here, Katherine?”
“I thought you might have had an enchanted room here,” she uttered in a stifled voice.
“Ah…the beast and the beauty,” he said, fleetingly touching the ridges of the scar on his lower chin.