Treasures Lost, Treasures Found

corrected as he fed her another spoon of soup.
    “Twenty-four what?”
    “Hours.” Ky slipped in another spoonful when her eyes widened.
    “I’ve been unconscious for twenty-four hours?” Shelooked to the window and the sunlight as if she could find some means of disproving it.
    “You slipped in and out quite a bit before Bailey gave you the shot. He said you probably wouldn’t remember.” Thank God, Ky added silently. Whenever she’d fought her way back to consciousness, she’d been in agony. He could still hear her moans, feel the way she’d clutched him. He never knew a person could suffer physically for another’s pain the way he’d suffered for hers. Even now it made his muscles clench.
    “That must’ve been some shot he gave me.”
    “He gave you what you needed.” His eyes met hers.
    For the first time Kate saw the fatigue in them, and the anger. “You’ve been up all night,” she murmured. “Haven’t you had any rest at all?”
    “You needed to be watched,” he said briefly. “Bailey wanted you to stay under, so you’d sleep through the worst of the pain, and so you’d just sleep period.” His voice changed as he lost control over the anger. He couldn’t prevent the edge of accusation from showing, partly for her, partly for himself. “The wound wasn’t that bad, do you understand? But you weren’t in any shape to handle it. Bailey said you’ve been well on the way to working yourself into exhaustion.”
    “That’s ridiculous. I don’t—”
    Ky swore at her, filling her mouth with more soup. “Don’t tell me it’s ridiculous. I had to listen to him. I hadto look at you. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you’re going to fall down on your face.”
    There was too much of the drug in her system to allow her temper to bite. Instead of annoyance, her words came out like a sigh. “I didn’t fall on my face.”
    “Only a matter of time.” Fury was coming too quickly. Though his fingers tightened on the spoon, Ky held it back. “I don’t care how much you want to find the treasure, you can’t enjoy it if you’re flat on your back.”
    The soup was warming her. As much as her pride urged her to refuse, her system craved the food. “I won’t be,” she told him, not even aware that her words were beginning to slur. “We’ll dive again tomorrow, and I’ll prove it’s the Liberty .”
    He started to swear at her, but one look at the heavy eyes and the pale cheeks had him swallowing the words. “Sure.” He spooned in more soup knowing she’d be asleep again within moments.
    “I’ll give the ladle and the rigging and the rest to a museum.” Her eyes closed. “For my father.”
    Ky set the tray on the floor. “Yes, I know.”
    “It was important to him. I need…I just need to give him something.” Her eyes fluttered open briefly. “I didn’t know he was ill. He never told me about his heart, about the pills. If I’d known…”
    “You couldn’t have done any more than you did.” His voice was gentle again as he shifted the pillows down.
    “I loved him.”
    “I know you did.”
    “I could never seem to make the people I love understand what I need. I don’t know why.”
    “Rest now. When you’re well, we’ll find the treasure.”
    She felt herself sinking into warmth, softness, the dark. “Ky.” Kate reached out and felt his fingers wrap around hers. With her eyes closed, it was all the reality she needed.
    “I’ll stay,” he murmured, brushing the hair from her cheek. “Just rest.”
    “All those years…” He could feel her fingers relaxing in his as she slipped deeper. “I never forgot you. I never stopped wanting you. Not ever…”
    He stared down at her as she slept. Her face was utterly peaceful, pale as marble, soft as silk. Unable to resist, he lifted her fingers to his own cheek, just to feel her flesh against his. He wouldn’t think about what she’d said now. He couldn’t. The strain of the last day had taken a toll on him as well. If he didn’t get some rest, he wouldn’t be able to care for her when she woke again.
    Rising, Ky pulled down the shades, and took off his shirt. Then he lay down next to Kate in the big four-poster bed and slept for the first time in thirty-six hours.
     
    The pain was a dull, consistent throb, not the silvery sharp flash she remembered, but a gnawing ache that wouldn’t pass. When it woke her, Kate lay still, trying to orient herself. Her mind was clearer now. She was grateful for that,