Fire of My Heart (8 page)

As Rowan slowly opened the
kitchen door, Ellen’s head fell back and landed on the toes of his boots.

“Are you
all right?” He reached down, helped her to her feet. She looked cold and
frightened and angry. Very angry.

“All
right?” Her eyes blazed with amber fire in her pale, gaunt face. “Why wouldn’t
I be all right?” She pushed his hands away and tried to steady herself, though
she looked likely to collapse at any moment. “I t-t-told you before I can take
care of myself. I d-don’t need your help!”

Hell. She’d
every right to be furious. He hadn’t been there to help her, protect her. It
would not happen again.

“Ellen, I
am sorry. More sorry than I can say.” He wanted to hold her and make the pain
go away. “I was outside and didn’t hear them come in.”

Close
enough to the truth--one he could explain at any rate.

How could
he tell her he struggled to keep from hurting her? Only by denying his need to take
her alluring life force could he hold her. But holding back had meant draining
his own strength.

Rescuing
her from outside earlier and the embrace with her in the library had left him
weak and he’d needed time to recover.

Strange.

He’d always
been attuned with the entire estate and everything in it, but tonight he’d not even
sensed the intruders’ arrival. Why?

“Forget
it.” She tried to push past, but he clasped her in his arms around her waist.
“Let go! I don’t need you. I...don’t...” Her outburst was interrupted by sobs.
Thumping his chest, she pushed against his torso as he pulled her to him.
Little use in her struggling. He wasn’t letting her go anywhere.

In silence
he held her close, her cries muffled against his chest. Despite that her
distress made him ache, she felt wonderful in his arms. Her subtle sweet scent
and warm soft skin, branded themselves upon his awakening senses. He really did
care for her.

Her body
shook as she leaned back and looked up at him. Renewed rage surged through him at
the fear in her eyes. No one would ever hurt her again.

“Rowan, will
they be back? Where did they go? Did you frighten them away?”

Looking
down at her tear-streaked face, he gently brushed her cheek with the back of
his hand. “You might say that. Now, don’t worry anymore, Ellen.”

A sigh
escaped her then she wilted in his embrace. He swept her up into his arms.
Carrying her up the staircase to her room, he leaned down and kissed her
forehead. “They won’t be back.”

* *
* *

Too content
with her face cuddled against Rowan’s neck, Ellen barely noticed the savage rain
beating against the glass upon entering her bedroom. He had come for her and
she was safe.

She’d
feared that perhaps he didn’t care.

Laying her
on the bed, he sighed and gave her a concerned smile.

“Wait here,
I promise to return.” He stood, pausing only to take a long look over her form.
She flushed from head to toe.

“Sure,” she
mumbled, as he walked away. “Where would I go?”

Although
sore and bruised, heat began rising from the depths of her belly. Get a grip.
Now… seriously? She sunk into the pillows, an exasperated sigh escaping her.

After what
seemed like only moments, he returned with a tray topped with a steaming bowl, a
cloth and a goblet of some tawny brown liquid. For the very first time, a
broad, warm smile lit his face. Heavens. The most gorgeous man she’d ever seen
just became magnificent.

As he placed the tray on the
nightstand, the soft aroma of lavender and rosemary floated all around her.

He sat down
beside her and dunked a cloth into the hot water.

She
frowned. “And, what are you going to do with that?”

He soaked
the cloth and wrung it out. “You’re wounded.” The smile dissipated and his brow
furrowed. “This land is full of healing herbs. They can help you.”

Before she
could digest his explanation, he looked at her bloodied jeans with trepidation.
Hold on. He expected her to take off her clothes? She thought about protesting.

Oh, what the hell. He’d
already seen her underwear.

“My pants?”
He nodded. She reached down and fumbled with the button of her jeans, which wouldn’t
open. Damn it. His presence was too distracting.

Placing his
hand upon hers, he drew one to him and blew gently on her scratched fingers.

Oh. So
good. Her body tingled all over and melted against the bed.

“Your
hands. They must be sore.” He took the cloth and sponged the graze swelling on
her palm. She winced as the liquid stung the angry wound.

“Thank
you,” she whispered. The herbs soothed her wound, and she breathed easier.

His every touch sent her
heartbeat racing, but he didn’t seem at all interested in her pulse.

His heated gaze travelled
over her, not in a sensual ‘God, you’re gorgeous, I want you now’ way, but more
like a ‘have you got any limbs dangling?’ way.

Perfect.

Nice of
him, but she was upset, vulnerable, lying there waiting for him, for goodness
sake.

She wanted
more than ‘nice’.

“Rowan. I’m
sorry for having a go at you before in the kitchen. It wasn’t right. You didn’t
deserve it.”

He offered
her the goblet.

“It’s all
right. Now, drink some of this. There’s no need to apologize. I’ve been alone
so long, I...never mind. How is your back? Are you wounded elsewhere?

Only her
pride.

A sigh
escaped her. “Some bruising, here and there. Though, I may have torn a ligament
in my leg.”

He gave her
a blank look. “Lig-a-ment?”

Surely, he
knew what a ligament was. Perhaps, they called it something different here.
“Yes, you know. It joins the muscle to the bones. I think I may have damaged
it. See? Shi-sh.” Her breath caught as her leg refused to bend.

“Drink,” he
insisted. “It will help ease the pain.” The contents of the glass smelled very strong.
She screwed up her nose.

“What is
it?”

“Irish
whiskey.” His warm smile returned. That alone made her feel much better. “Just
a bit at a time now. It’s a very old vintage.”

With a tiny
sip, liquid fire flowed down her throat, warming her whole body in the process.
“Ooohh. That is quite a nip. What year is it?”

“Seventeen
eighty-five.”

She
coughed. “Excuse me?”

He covered
her with a sheet, leaned forward and touched her brow.

“I feared
you might get a fever.”

Half
pleased by his concern, half chagrined that he’d covered her up, she smiled.
“Don’t worry. I come from hearty stock. I’ll survive.”

He touched
her cheek, traced the curve of her jaw with his fingertips and brushed them
across her lips.

“Well, that
may be so, but I think I have something that will make you feel much better.” She
swallowed. “You do?”

He nodded,
a sensual smile tilting his mouth. “I’ll be right back.”

Be right
back again. Sure, why not? Once he went out of sight, she slumped into her
pillows. Either she should feel complimented by his chivalrous actions, or
insulted. She’d been ready for a kiss, dammit.

Fabulous.

Having
finally decided to let the man she wanted into her heart, he couldn’t seem to
find the door.

A gentleman
wouldn’t take advantage of her, but right now she didn’t want a gentleman. Her
insides coiled and tightened at the thought of Rowan’s weight upon her, his
lips kissing every inch of her skin.

She shocked
herself. For the first time, she could honestly say she desired someone. Not
just anyone--Rowan.

A chill wisp
of air rippled across the sheets and nipped at her skin, made her shudder.

But Rowan had closed the
door. There should be no draft.

A dark
shadow descended upon the room, swallowing everything in its path like a thick
fog, creeping, and billowed at the foot of her bed. The screech of metal on
glass made her look at the window.

Dozens of
people lined the windows, their long faces gray and distorted with pain. They seemed
to be scratching at the glass, trying to get in. Coming after her.

“No!”
Scrambling to the other side of the bed, she picked up a pillow and hurled it
at the leadlight.

The scream
building in her chest refused to come. Fear crushed her lungs. Her legs
trembled and threatened to give way as she stumbled to the doorway and out into
the corridor. The howling wind had transformed into a deafening moan that
accompanied her every step.

“Go away!”
She covered her ears with her hands. The voices grew louder. Shadows on the floor
crept closer. She took flight up the staircase, not stopping until she’d
reached the top. What did they want with her? Tears flowed down her cheeks. The
excruciating pain from her leg nearly made her faint. She pushed through a
wooden door and landed, sprawled upon the wet tar roof.

“Argh!”
Tremors of agony ripped along her body as she lay there, the rain pelting down on
her.

Faces. More
faces, in every puddle. She smashed her fist into every one she could reach. Damn
them. Damn them all to hell. But the images just changed with the effort.

There was
no escape.

Heavy sobs
wracked her chest as she slowly pushed herself along, crawling toward the edge of
the roof. “Leave me alone.”

Pulling her
aching body along, she slumped against the stone turret, leaned over and gazed down
at the ground below. More people. All looking up at her.

“What do
you want from me?” Her eyes were so bleary, she could barely see anymore.

Sapped of
energy, she hung there. If they wanted her dead, easy enough. She didn’t care anymore,
was too tired to fight. Just wanted it all to go away.

She’d
already lost her mind.

* *
* *

“Ellen!”
Two strong hands grasped her waist, pulled her from the ledge. Another dream. “Hell,
woman. What were you doing?”

“Rowan?”
His worried eyes stared back at her. Water droplets dripped from his dark hair down
onto her cheek.

“How did
you get up here with your leg?”

She shook
her head, swallowed and began to shiver. She dare not tell him the truth. How could
she? Even she couldn’t explain what had happened. “Hold me.”

* *
* *

When she
awoke, darkness still reigned outside, and she had no idea how long she’d
slept.

Rowan had
wrapped her in a blanket, which now cocooned her body. A fire blazed on the
bedroom hearth. She let go a deep sigh.

What was
happening to her?

She’d read
all about diseases and conditions that affected the mind, but could she have contracted
one so young? In the science world, anything was possible. Maybe it had been
something in the water. The well was very old. Perhaps she’d fallen foul of
some mold spore, a mycotoxin, and it had given her hallucinations.

Rowan had
never mentioned seeing weird people or faces, and she’d be damned if she’d ask him.
He was her one shot at happiness. She knew that now.

“Ellen.”
Just the sight of him caused the breath to rush from her lungs. God, how good
he looked. Each time she noticed something different about him. “I’m happy
you’re awake.”

She turned
and tried to stretch, but her body ached with protest. “Hi. How long was I
out?”

He averted
his gaze and walked over to the fire.

“Not sure.
I wasn’t watching the time.”

“Doesn’t
matter.”

He turned
and faced her. His eyes sparkled in the dim light, the flecks of gold
shimmering through the green. “Do you think you can move?”

Hell no. “I
guess. A bit. Why?”

As he
approached the bed, her pulse quickened. Staying right there was a great option
too.

He smiled. “I
have a surprise for you.”

He tugged
back the blanket, slid his arms under her body and lifted her gently from the
bed. Arms around his neck, she eagerly accepted his embrace as he carried her
across the room. With every moment, his tender manner reached further into her
heart, made her never want to let him go.

Pausing
before the kitchen door, he gently set her upon her feet, brushed a lock of
hair from her eyes and smiled. Her muscles went weak as tiny electric shocks
ricocheted around her body. She almost forgot about her pain.

What had he
been up to?

Supporting
her around her waist, he pushed the heavy wooden door open.

A blazing
fire warmed the old stone kitchen. Dozens of tallow and beeswax candles created
a magical glow. Best of all, sitting in front of the hearth was an enormous old
copper bathtub. The sweetest sight ever. Her eyes watered, making the
candlelight seem as if it danced.