Love Me Forever (12 page)

She nodded. “It leaves me vulnerable.”

“You are only vulnerable if you allow
yourself to be so.

“I was helpless and vulnerable when you
found me.”

‘True,” he said, “but you made your strength
known and fought through the pain with courage. You protected
yourself through mind and spirit. You were not as vulnerable as you
thought.”

“You were a gentleman. I was lucky you found
me. Someone of less dubious character could have come upon me. Then
what of my fate?”

He smiled. “Somehow I think you would have
survived no matter the circumstances.”

“You have much faith in my strength.”

“You have not enough, and that makes me
understand you more than you understand yourself.”

She laughed. “I do so enjoy talking with
you.”

“There, you know something about me.”

“I think I know some things about you. You
are kind and caring, strong and brave. You have a loving heart that
you keep closely guarded, and you dearly loved your
grandmother.”

“You do know me,” he insisted.

“I know not of the battle that left you so
badly scarred.”

He grew silent, his dark eyes staring at her
but not seeing her. When he responded, it was blunt. “I do not wish
to speak of it.”

She simply nodded.

“There is much for us to think on.”

“I agree, but”—she grinned like a child not
sure she should ask a question—”will you still kiss me?”

His grin was as childish as hers. “I was
hoping you would want me to.”

“I do,” she said with excitement.

“Now?”

“Aye. Now would be good,” she said, a brief
nod confirming her own words.

He wasted not a moment. He brought his lips
to hers with haste, too hasty for a wounded lip. He yelped and drew
quickly away from her, his hand hurrying to his lip.

“You have hurt yourself,” she said, her hand
rushing to his.

“I am fine,” he stubbornly insisted, though
he felt the blood begin to drip on his hand.

“Let me see.” She was as adamant as he was
stubborn. She tugged at his hand. “Let me see.” She was no match
for his strength; try as she might, she could not move his
hand.

He attempted to move away from her, not
wanting her to see the blood, but he was not quick enough. His
blood slipped between his fingers to slowly run down his hand.

“You are bleeding!” Brianna cried out as
though he suffered a fate worse than death. She shoved the blankets
away from her and scrambled to climb out of bed.

“Stay where you are,” he ordered firmly.

“I certainly will not. You need help.” She
tried to climb over him.

He stopped her, his strong arm going around
her waist. “Stay put.”

His words were mumbled, and she looked at
him with alarm. The blood was running rapidly down his hand, and
soon he would have trouble containing it.

“Please.” She sounded as if she begged.
“Please let me help you.”

He thought to deny her, but her eyes pleaded
with him and he could not help but surrender. “I will gather what
is necessary for you to tend me.”

“Nay,” she said anxiously, “you will sit and
I will gather what I need.”

He was about to object, but she shook her
head and a finger at him.

“You will not move. I will see to this. Now
release me before you bleed to death.”

He wanted to smile but knew that was not
wise. He released her with an order, and though his words sounded
mumbled from his hand covering his mouth, they were clear enough.
“Any pain and you return to bed.”

She nodded and slipped out of bed, his arm
finally leaving her waist completely when she was steady on her
feet. She felt a slight discomfort in her lower back, but she
thought it more from being abed so much. It felt wonderful to move
about, though she took ease with her steps.

He directed her to the clean cloths, and she
managed without difficulty to scoop warm water from the pot near
the flames into a bowl. She found her pouch of herbs and crushed a
few in a small bowl.

Royce stood, intending to help her move the
bowls to the small chest beside the bed. She would not have it.

“Stay where you are. I can manage.”

His dark green eyes questioned her, and she
understood what he wished to hear. “I have no pain.”

“None?” he mumbled, then winced; his lip was
beginning to throb.

She was honest. “I feel a small discomfort
due probably to my lack of movement, which I intend to rectify
beginning now.”

She had all the items she needed moved to
the chest in a moment’s time, and without hesitation she proceeded
to tend to his lip. She stood in front of him and eased his hand
away from his mouth. The blood was smeared all around his mouth and
covered his chin. She thought it probably looked worse than it
actually was and went to work cleaning him off.

She immediately determined the problem. “The
wound is deep and must heal within before it can properly heal on
the outside. I am going to bathe the wound with the herbs that I
crushed. It will lessen the soreness. Tomorrow I will make a
poultice that I will place on your lip at night before you go to
sleep. It will help it to heal more quickly.”

He made to respond and she stopped him.

“You must limit your talk at least for the
remainder of this day and—”

His eyes widened, for he knew what she was
about to say.

“There will be no kissing until this lip
heals.” She looked directly into his dark eyes. “And do not think
that it does not upset me to say that.”

He looked about to smile.

“There will be no smiling, either.”

She seemed to be able to converse with him
by looking into his eyes. Somehow she understood what he was not
able to speak.

“Aye, I am the one who gives the orders now,
and I expect to be obeyed.” She had to smile. She knew it was not
fair to him, but the urge was too strong to ignore.

She was amazed to see that his eyes appeared
to smile at her, and she proceeded with her task, working like a
diligent healer. She did not realize that as she worked, she paused
on occasion to rub her lower back and stretch to ease her
discomfort.

Royce noticed her actions and paid close
heed to them. He hoped she would be done soon, for he was not going
to allow her to stand much longer. She did appear happy to be out
of bed and on her feet, which he had allowed her to do, though he
had made her sit in the chair by the fire. Perhaps it was time for
her to walk about more and strengthen her back.

She rubbed her lower back again, but this
time it was with a slight sigh that she did not even notice.

“Back to bed,” he ordered when she turned to
drop the cloth in the bowl of water.

“I am fine and I have yet to finish tending
you. Your hand needs cleaning and you should not be talking. The
bleeding has finally stopped—”

“Back to bed,” he said before she could
finish.

She was about to argue when she realized
that it would do her no good and that he would be the one to
suffer. He would continue talking and cause his lip to bleed
again.

“You are stubborn.”

“We are alike.”

“Let me at least clean your hand,” she said,
“and then I will return to bed.” He could clean his own hand, but
he saw that she wished to complete her task. It was important to
her, and he did not wish to deprive her of the satisfaction. He
held his bloody hand out to her.

“I need clean water.”

He raised a brow.

“I really am fine,” she assured him. “It
feels so very good to walk about.”

He nodded with reluctance, and to his
surprise she gently kissed his cheek.

“This is good for me. I need to be out of
bed.”

He actually wanted her in bed, but that
would have to wait. Not that he needed a healed lip to make love to
her, but she needed to know for certain that she wanted him. He
would not have her otherwise; for once he did he did not intend to
let her go.

She dumped the dirty water in a bucket by
the door for Royce to discard later, and then scooped clean warm
water into the bowl and grabbed a clean cloth before returning to
him.

He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying
the pleasure she brought him as she gently wiped at the dried blood
with the warm cloth. How cleaning his hand could feel sensual he
did not know, but his body was certainly responding.

When he opened his eyes, he watched her
movements. She made soft long strokes with the cloth over his
fingers, and then when all the blood was gone, she rinsed the
cloth, turned his hand over, and went to work on his palm.

He wondered how he would keep his sanity.
Her touch was light and she rubbed in a circular motion, round and
round and round; up his fingers and back again to go round and
round and round.

Damned if he was not growing hard, and damn
her for moving her body closer to his and leaning against him. He
thought her sigh was caused by the discomfort in her back, but
there was a second and then a third, and by the fourth he
understood that she was feeling the effects of her touch on him as
strongly as he was.

He took the cloth from her hand and she
surrendered it without protest. He dropped it to the ground and
slipped his arms around her waist, drawing her in between his
legs.

“I—” She could not seem to find words to
express her feelings. So she did what she most wanted to do. She
began to kiss his face.

Brianna softly kissed his cool cheek until
it warmed from her lips, and then she traced a trail of delicate
kisses up and around the fading bruise that circled his injured
eye. She moved along his forehead, enthralled by the sweet yet
salty taste of him, and without thought she ran the tip of her
tongue down his temple to his cheek, where she returned to spread
kisses. She settled in the corner of his mouth and ever so gently
let her tongue play with the taste of him.

She could not seem to get enough of him, and
with warm wet lips she moved down to nibble at his neck. She
thrilled at the joy she felt nipping, tickling, and kissing, and
she would have continued enjoying herself if he had not grabbed her
by the shoulders and gently shoved her off him, holding her a safe
distance away.

“Continue this and I will not be able to
stop myself from making love to you.”

Her common sense returned like a splash of
cold water to the face. She was startled more from her actions than
his remark.

“I did not think.”

“Your actions were intended for pleasure not
thought. There was no reason for you to think, only feel.”

She seemed even more startled. “You tell me
that my intention was pleasure?”

“A kiss or two is pleasing; more than that
ignites passion and pleasure.”

Her eyes rounded like full moons.

“Your reaction surprises you.” He wished to
lift her and settle her on his lap, for she favored the side that
gave her discomfort. But his arousal would be too evident to her
and her bottom nestled on him would not help matters.

“I have never felt such an overwhelming urge
to kiss a man.”

“You mean to seduce a man.”

“Seduce?” She stood straight, her eyes
remaining wide.

“Aye. And a fine job you were doing of
it.”

She shook her head in disbelief, then
stopped and asked, “Was I?”

He took her hand and slowly, so that the
choice was hers to follow, brought her hand to rest over the hard
length of him.

“Oh,” she said and kept her hand on him, her
own desire soaring at the thought that she could affect him so. She
did not intend to stroke him, but it felt so natural and he felt so
very good to the touch.

“You really are going to be in trouble if
you keep that up.”

She hastily pulled her hand away and offered
him an apology. “I am sorry. I do not—”

He stopped her. “Do not apologize for
desiring me. I love when you kiss me and when you touch me.”

‘Truly?” She sounded stunned.

“Aye, truly,” he assured her.

She leaned to her side, her face scrunching
in discomfort.

“Your back troubles you?”

“Aye, it pains me.”

“Back to bed,” he said firmly and stood to
scoop her up into his arms and place her in bed, pulling the
blankets up around her and arranging the pillows comfortably
beneath her head.

She reached for his hand before he could
move away. “I do not understand my feelings.”

“You will in time.”

“But is there enough time?” She sounded
anxious, concerned, and almost fearful that they would not have
enough time together.

He leaned down close and rubbed his cheek to
hers. ‘Trust me; I will make certain we have enough time.”

“My brother will find me soon enough.”

“Aye, he will, but by then this will be
settled between you and me.” He rubbed his cheek to hers once
again.

“Now rest, you have had a busy time.” He
left her side, though he did not want to. He would have preferred
to remain beside her, snuggled against her, holding her and loving
her. But at the moment that would not be a wise choice.

He kept himself busy cleaning up the bowls
and cloths and preparing the evening meal for them. She dozed as he
knew she would; though she insisted she was fine, her body
continued to heal and often sought rest.

His mind stayed busy along with his hands.
There was much they needed to discuss, though he doubted words
would settle anything at the moment. Their emotions seemed to have
the upper hand, and that was unusual for him. Sound reason,
diligent thought, and right action always made for wise
choices.

Presently, he lacked sound reason, his
thoughts were chaotic, and right action was the farthest thing from
his mind. So then, would his choice be unwise? He had to smile to
himself, recalling that a wide grin would not help his lip.