Love Me Forever (15 page)

She had healed nicely over the last few
weeks. Most of her bruises had faded away or at least faded to a
pale yellowish hue, reminding her that they soon would be gone.
Surprisingly, the bruise on her lower back had faded faster than
she had expected, that area having given her the most discomfort.
Otherwise she could not say that she suffered much from her ordeal.
Royce had been a kind and gentle healer, and it was because of him
she had healed and felt so well.

He, however, was still healing from his
wounds. The scar on his face had crusted and looked as though it
would leave him with a heavy reminder of battle. His lip was near
to healed and barely troubled him, and the swelling around his eye
had all but gone. He appeared more human now, though the extent of
damage his facial scar had caused made it difficult for her to
picture him as he once was.

It mattered not to her, for she knew his
heart and soul and they were beautiful. His facial features were no
concern to her. How he treated her was of the utmost, concern to
her.

She cuddled closer to his warmth. She was
comfortable lying naked beside him, which is how she now slept. She
had learned soon enough that her night shift would not remain on
her when they climbed into bed together, so after several times she
did not bother to put it on. And she had to admit she liked waking
in the middle of the night or in the morning and cuddling against
his warm body. He would slip his arms around her and hold her
close. She felt safe and protected and very much loved.

He had also taught her the joy and bliss of
making love. There was not a day that went by that they did not
make love and that she did not learn something new. He was gentle
and understanding with her and encouraged her to explore.

She smiled, remembering how she had told him
she wished to explore with her tongue. He quickly encouraged her,
and that night was one that would live long in her memory, for she
had not thought a woman could be in such control of a man.

They talked of getting wed, though he had
yet to ask her. He was confident they would, and she was confident
that he would ask her in time. She worried not about her brother’s
response to their union, for her brother wished her to be happy.
Once he saw how very happy she was with Royce, she was certain Ian
would agree to their union.

Ian would surely ask Royce to join their
clan since he seemed more on his own. If he had been a part of a
large clan, he would not be alone in this cottage healing his
wounds. There would be clansmen and women to help him.

Now he would be alone no more. He would
become part of the clan Cameron, Ian would probably give them a
keep nearby, and life would be good for all.

Why, then, this thought of impending
disruption? What could possibly happen?

She knew her brother would greet Royce well,
and she knew Royce would respond in kind. Whatever was disturbing
her?

“What is wrong?” His arm slipped around her
to draw her closer so that her head could rest on his chest, and he
draped his leg over hers.

“I woke you.”

“Nay, the thought of another day with you
beside me woke me.” He kissed her forehead.

“The days do seem more exciting and full
since I began sharing them with you.”

“And they will remain so. We will share much
together.”

“You sound so very certain,” she said, her
strange unease continuing to disturb her.

“What troubles you?” he asked, his arm
wrapping more tightly around her, assuring her that she was well
protected.

She stroked his chest, needing to touch him.
“I do not know. I woke feeling . . .”

Her words trailed off, for she found it
difficult to explain how she felt.

He encouraged her to speak. ‘Tell me and we
will sort this out together.”

Together.

They did much together, for there was only
the two of them here and now. Is that what troubled her? Did she
fear returning to a world outside this cottage? What did she think
would happen?

“Talk with me,” he said with a gentle
squeeze.

She did not wish to spoil their day. “It is
nothing, I worry needlessly.”

“Let me worry with you,” he encouraged,
giving her bottom a loving pat.

She was reluctant to discuss her concerns.
They were, after all, her own fears, and she should deal with them
accordingly.

She moved restlessly in his arms.

“You will tell me.”

That he demanded was obvious. That he
demanded out of concern was also obvious. She could not be angry
with him for caring. His concern touched her heart and made her
realize his love for her. It constantly amazed her that she had
found such a strong, enduring love with him.

They were strangers, yet they were not.

She settled in his arms and she could feel
his tension ease with her calmness.

“I have thought too much over our
return.”

“All will go well,” he assured her with a
confidence that startled her.

“You really have not a shred of doubt?”

“There is no reason for doubt. From what you
have told me of your brother, he cares only for your happiness. He
would be the only one who could prevent our union, and he will not
do that; therefore, there is no cause to worry.”

“I tell myself the very same thing,
but...”

Her words trailed off again as if she did
not believe herself.

“Brianna.” He called to her softly.

She looked up at him in question.

“Do you love me?”

She thought to tell him that he asked a
foolish question, but she felt compelled to answer from her
heart.

“With all my heart and soul.”

“As do I love you, and with a love as strong
as ours, do you think there is anything that can keep us apart? Do
you think that I would not fight for you? Do you think that I would
not die for you?”

“Hush,” she said with a finger to his lips.
“My heart aches at such a thought. I do not know what I would do
without you. I even find that I have grown accustomed to sharing a
bed with you,” —she poked him playfully in the ribs— “though your
size takes up much of the bed.”

“It is not my size that makes the bed small;
it is the fact that you attach yourself to me and will give me no
room to move,” he teased in return.

“I will not argue the truth, for I do find
it pleasant to nestle against you while I sleep. You are warm and
comfortable and I cannot resist your body.”

He poked playfully at her. “You certainly
cannot resist my body; your thirst for me is insatiable.”

She buried her blushing face against his
bare chest. “I had not known—” She stopped herself from admitting
how much joy she had discovered in making love and how much she
desired him. She did what she was accustomed to doing, apologizing.
“I am sorry—”

He stopped her this time. He grabbed her and
hoisted her on top of him. “Never apologize for wanting me. I had
not known the beauty of making love until I experienced it with
you. I had not known love until I found you. You are mine and I am
yours forever. We will love forever and beyond, and no one, not a
soul, will come between us.”

She kissed him as she often did, soft and
gentle.

He, however, was feeling possessive, a need
to demonstrate how strongly he cared for her, how much he wanted
her, and how much that need pulsated within him.

He grabbed her about the waist and turned
her onto her back, covering her body with his. He normally asked if
she was all right, if anything pained her, if she was
comfortable.

He asked her nothing. He looked at her with
a fire in his eyes that could not be denied.

His mouth descended on hers with a heated
passion, and his body moved against hers with a determined
purpose.

They had loved many times and many ways, but
this time there was a need in him she had never felt before, and it
fired her own passion. And though his kiss demanded and his touch
was forceful, she knew he would never hurt her and that thought
excited her all the more.

His mouth moved to her nipples and feasted
there like a starving man. She tried to touch him, stroke him, kiss
him, but he rebelled. He would have the upper hand, he would
control, direct, take charge.

She could do nothing but surrender to his
will, enjoying every touch, stroke, and kiss he rained upon her. He
was like a man with an insatiable need and she the only sustenance
that could satisfy him.

Time stood still; nothing existed but the
two of them and their relentless need to love. He brought her to
climax more times than she thought possible, and when she thought
she was spent, unable to respond, he took her with such a loving
force that she climaxed with him, his name an echoing cry on her
lips.

He braced his damp body over hers, pressed
his cheek to hers, and whispered in an even voice, “I will not live
life without you. You are mine. I will love you forever.”

~ ~ ~

With the morning meal done and the sun
bright in the blue sky, Brianna and Royce made ready for their
daily walk in the woods. Brianna was anxious to be on their way.
She had been collecting twigs and small branches so that she could
fashion a basket, a task she had learned from her sister-in-law’s
friend Anne. It kept her mind and hands busy and she loved seeing
the end results, a creation of beauty and patience, her
creation.

“Hurry,” she urged him. “I have much to
collect.”

“And I have much to carry,” he teased her
with an arm around her waist.

She stared at him a moment before asking,
“This will not stop between us, walks in the woods, loving as we
do, sharing our meals together?”

“Nay,” he said softly with a kiss to her
cheek. “We will share more walks and more loving and more
meals.”

To her own surprise she agreed with him.
“Aye, we will.”

His head shot up, and he was suddenly alert
to all that surrounded him. His hand instantly went to the sword
that hung at his side, and with a firm hand he pushed Brianna
behind him.

She grew alarmed, for she knew he sensed
danger. She wisely moved as he directed, remained silent, and kept
herself close to his back. He was a warrior; she would leave him to
do what he did best.

She suddenly heard what his sharp warrior
instincts had alerted him to. Horses and men approached, though at
no great speed, and she sensed then that their time together was at
an end.

Brianna recognized Blair in the distance. He
always sat his horse with ease and confidence as though he had not
a care in the world. He fooled many an opponent that way, making
them think him an easy target. They found out soon enough he was a
formidable adversary.

She also watched Royce. He was a warrior who
remained alert and prepared and ready to fight in an instant.

His muscles were taut, his stance firm, and
his attention focused. He would strike like a snake and does damage
before anyone realized what had happened.

She understood this and did not wish to wait
until it was too late to prevent an altercation. She stepped around
Royce, keeping out of his reach, and ran toward the approaching
men, waving.

“Blair!”

Brianna could see the relief in Blair’s eyes
when he spotted her, and he urged his horse toward her. Royce was
at her side before Blair could dismount, and to Brianna’s surprise
Blair hesitated, glaring at Royce, before he carefully dismounted
his horse, all the time keeping his eyes on Royce.

She ran up to Blair and threw her arms
around him. He hugged her to him, but she sensed that he kept his
focus on Royce.

“It is good to see you,” she said, stepping
back, though keeping hold of his arms.

“It is a relief to know you are well. Ian
has been going crazy searching for you. He would let none rest,
though none wanted to, until you were found.” Blair gave her
another hug, needing to feel that she was real and the ordeal was
over.

When Brianna stepped back away from him, she
noticed that the men with Blair kept a steady eye on Royce almost
as if they feared he would assault them—though it was probably his
scars that caught such an intense interest. Still, it unnerved her
the blatant way they all stared at him.

She thought it best to introduce the two
men, for Blair looked extremely uneasy with Royce. She could not
say the same of Royce. He stood with an arrogant confidence that
could intimidate the bravest of men.

“Blair,” Brianna said with a smile that she
hoped would be contagious, “I want you to meet the man who helped
heal me after the accident.” She held her hand out to Royce and he
took it. “Blair, this is Royce. And, Royce, this is Blair, a good
friend to me and my brother.”

Both men understood the significance of her
introduction.

She was telling both men how much each of
them meant to her and without words she was expressing the hope
that the two would be friends.

Blair extended his hand at the same moment
Royce did, and they shook.

“Ian Cameron will be pleased to know that
you gave his sister shelter and aid in her time of need. We had
come across the battered carriage and the remains of the two men.
We worried over Brianna’s fate.”

“I am sorry that I had no time to see to a
proper burial. Brianna needed immediate attention,” Royce said,
slowly drawing Brianna back into his arms.

Blair watched his every move and noted the
fact that his one hand remained on the hilt of his sword. “The
Camerons are grateful.”

Royce acknowledged his remark with a curt
nod.

Brianna attempted to understand both men’s
reactions, though she puzzled over the tension in the air and the
way the men on the horses whispered and watched the exchange.

She was surprised at Blair’s next remark and
the way he stared at Royce as he spoke. “Gather what things you
have, Brianna, and we will be on our way.”