Page 9 of Love Me Forever
He stared at her long and hard, lingering on her delicate features. Her lashes were long, dark, and curled perfectly over her eyes and against her creamy pale skin.
He shook his head. Lord, but she was beautiful. The thought struck like lightning. He had been sent an angel. Was she here to save his soul from the fires of hell? Was she to rescue him from the depths of despair?
He laughed silently inside himself. How could she help save him when she could not help save herself? She was presently vulnerable, forced to completely rely on him for her every need.
Yet she did so with courage and strength. He saw the spark of fear that lighted in her eyes every now and again, and yet she faced that fear and conquered it each and every time. She shed not a single tear for herself but for the pain she bore bravely.
He had admired different women in his life, his grandmother in particular. She had raised him upon his mother’s death when he was but five years. She had been loving and strong and had instilled within him the necessities of survival, and he would forever be grateful to her for the many lessons she had taught him.
She could give him a hug as quickly as she could give him a slap for not paying attention. She taught him that awareness was everything in life and without it he would be as blind as most. And she had been right; that awareness had kept him sharp in battle and when dealing with friends and enemies alike.
She had been his strength until she had forced him to face his own strength. She was a remarkable woman, and he missed her every day since her passing two years ago.
But she had whispered prophetic words to him before she died. She had told him that a woman of courage and tenderness would enter his life when he needed her the most and that she would give him one daughter and four sons. She would teach him what it meant to truly love, and his warrior skills would be necessary to keep her from harm.
They would live to an old age and he would die in her arms, she following two days after him, for their love was too strong for even death to separate them. His grandmother had never been wrong in anything she had predicted for him or the clan, and he has always paid heed to her advice.
Now he wondered if Brianna was this woman. She fascinated him, though he could not say why. He wanted time with her, time to know her and time to understand her. He would care for her as long as necessary; he, after all, needed to heal as well, not only his physical scars but the ones that festered within him.
They would help each other, as strange as that may seem, and he looked forward to the healing. He needed it; he yearned for it.
She whimpered in her sleep, and without thought to his actions he stretched out beside her and gently took her in his arms. She went without protest, snuggling against him as though he could protect her from the pain, and he wrapped strong yet tender arms around her and settled her snugly in his embrace.
He felt the emptiness inside him that had seemed to forever linger fade away and be replaced by a gentle acceptance, as if he had finally arrived home, as if he was welcome and could remain as long as he wished here in her loving tenderness.
He slept knowing that he protected her and that an angel protected him.
CHAPTER4
Royce watched her sleep. Sleep was what she mostly did these past two days. She would wake and talk with him for a short while and then drift off to sleep once again. It amazed him how often she would smile at him when her eyes slowly opened to find him beside her, and at times she would drift immediately back to sleep, as if she had opened her eyes only to make certain he was nearby.
That they had established a trust between them was obvious, but it extended only so far, and he realized the wisdom of her ways. He was after all a stranger, and she was vulnerable in her weakened condition. He had made certain to treat her with gently hands and with respect, never once touching her intimately, though it was difficult. After all he was a man.
A man who needed to heal.
Brianna stirred in her sleep and he moved swiftly to her side from where he sat near the table. He adjusted the wool blanket around her and then ran a soothing hand over her forehead. He had worried about a fever setting in, though she had no open wounds, and usually festering wounds drew a fever. While bruises were painful, they were not always life-threatening, though he had seen men die from a single bruise.
He sat on the bed beside her and ran his hand along the side of her face.
She sighed and snuggled her face against his touch.
He had gone and retrieved her satchel from the overturned coach, and he had searched for the healing basket she had mentioned, but he could not find it. He had thought she would feel more comfortable in her night shift, but the movement required to slip into it had proven too painful for her, so she remained naked beneath the blanket.
Questions haunted him, questions he wished to ask of her, yet he knew now was not the time. He had come to realize that while she may have been married, she was not comfortable with a man’s touch, which led him to believe that her marriage had not been a loving one.
He did wonder who now watched over her, for she had two clansmen with her on her journey, a sure sign that someone offered her protection. Who was it? And was he now searching for her?
She had offered no information on her clan, but then he could not fault her for that, for the Highland clans were forever at odds with each other, one minute calling one a friend, the next minute a foe.
He had time to discover more about her even if someone was out searching for her. The cottage was tucked away deep in the woods with no direct path leading to it. And it seemed that Mother Nature herself wished Brianna to remain with him, for a light snow had started in the late morning and turned heavier as the hours passed. It was near to nightfall now and several inches covered the ground, concealing their footsteps and preventing anyone from finding them.
They were hidden from the world for a while and he liked the idea. Brianna needed time to heal from her wounds, as did he.
He watched her eyes drift slowly open, and her soft, faint smile forced him to smile, as best he could, in return.
“I feel chilled.” She shivered and attempted to burrow further beneath the covers.
Royce silently cursed himself. He had gone hunting earlier and had left his heavier tunic on when he returned, being in a hurry to clean the fat rabbit and prepare a stew for supper. He had felt she needed more solid food than just broth. He had not realized he had allowed the fire to burn low until he placed the iron pot in the hearth. He had added more logs immediately, but the logs were damp and taking time to flame. He had since moved a stack of logs inside knowing that if the snowstorm continued a blazing fire would be essential to their comfort.
