Page 4 of Love Me Forever
“Are you hungry?” he asked, his hand remaining firmly locked with hers.
She thought a moment, for food had not been a thought and she simply felt too weak even to consider attempting to eat. “Nay, I have not the strength.”
“The very reason you should eat something, to regain your strength.”
She sighed softly, knowing a deep breath would only bring her pain, and before she could respond he spoke.
“The broth I have made would suit you well.”
Brianna knew she could not lift even a simple spoon, and her disappointment was evident when she repeated, “I have not the strength.”
“I will feed you, you need not worry.”
A single tear trickled from her eye. The idea that she was completely dependent on this stranger upset her. She had no choice but to rely on his kindness and to trust him. She realized that trust was the most difficult for her. She had not been able to trust her husband; how was she ever to trust this man she did not know?
With a gentle swipe of his finger, he removed the single teardrop from her cheek. “You need not fear me. I mean you no harm, Brianna. I will care for you as long as is necessary. Trust me.”
She had shut her eyes and listened to the soothing lilt of his voice. If she had not known his features, she would have thought of them as gentle, a smooth complexion, tender eyes, soft lips. This vision of such a man she could trust, but the man who stood over her possessed no gentle features.
Her eyes drifted open. He looked down at her with an intense dark green eye; his other eye was too badly swollen shut for him to open. The color reminded her of the forest in the winter, cold and empty yet content in its solitude. His hair was long, a burnished brown, as though fire and light mixed with the color of the earth, and it looked to be well tended, for it shined with a silky radiance.
One braid hung down on the right side of his head, a brown leather strip entwined in the strands. His lip swelled from the severe spilt and made it impossible to determine the true shape of his mouth. And one look at his body left no doubt that he was a warrior. He wore a dark shirt over a broad and heavily muscled chest. His plaid was of dark colors and wrapped snugly around a narrow waist; below that she could not see, for he leaned over the edge of the bed, blocking the rest of him from her view.
“Now that you have looked me over, will you trust me?”
“Have I a choice?” Brianna asked, feeling justified in blatantly taking stock of him.
His hand gently pushed a stray strand of hair off her face. “Nay, Brianna, you have no choice but to trust me.”
An unexpected cough seized her and she cried out as pain stabbed at her chest. Without thought she squeezed at his hand that held firm to hers, and his other hand instantly reached out to gently cup her face and force her to rest her glance on him.
“Look at me and breathe calmly,” he ordered in a tone that he must have used to command men in battle, for she immediately obeyed him without question.
“Calmly,” he repeated when she fought the breath that followed. “If you struggle you will only worsen the pain and bring yourself more discomfort. Ease your breathing.”
She followed his words and took short shallow breaths and realized the pain lessened, though her hold on his hand remained firm.
“Time and rest will heal your bruises.”
She nodded slowly, knowing he was right.
“I will get you some broth and you will eat.”
“A command?” she asked with effort, the pain not having completely subsided.
“If it is necessary.”
His response warned her that he was a man accustomed to having his command obeyed, and being that she had no choice at the moment; she wisely chose to defer to him.
For now.
“Nay, I will eat what I can.”
“It is good that you try, but first I must raise you up more on the pillows so that you may eat more comfortably.”
Her eyes rounded, the thought of pain filling her with dread, and he understood. “I will move you as gently as possible.”
He did not wait for her to respond or object. He removed his hand from hers and slipped his arm beneath the wool blanket.
