Love Me Forever (8 page)

They talked and laughed and shared a
pleasant meal together, but then all their meals had been
enjoyable. They had formed a bond of friendship that grew stronger
day by day, much stronger than either of them wished to
acknowledge.

After Royce cleaned up from their meal, he
returned to her bedside, leaned down, and with a grin asked, “Would
my lady care for a bath?”

Her eyes rounded in wonder. “You tease
me.”

“Nay, there is a half-size wooden barrel
outside the door that I could bring in, and it would serve as a
perfect bath for you. I can heat the water to a pleasant
temperature, and without effort I can carry you to the tub.
Besides, I think the wet heat would help ease your pains.”

Brianna desperately wanted a bath, but he
had done so much for her and he was recovering from his own wounds.
She raised her hand to his face, gently running her finger over his
swollen lip. “You must be tired from all you have done for me.”

Her touch was like none he had ever felt,
feather soft, and it tingled his lips, masking the pain of his
wound. If she could ease his physical pain so easily with a simple
touch, what, then, if her touch turned intimate? Would her hands
hold the magic to ease his anguished soul?

Not thoughts he should be having at the
moment, and he made haste to chase them away, though they lingered
in his consciousness. “Nay, I need no rest and I heal—”

She pressed a gentle finger to his lips.
“Slowly. You need a poultice for a wound or two, and rest would
serve you well.”

It did his heart good to think that she
actually cared for him. “When you are well enough, you can prepare
a poultice for me, and after your bath we will sleep and I will
rest.”

“Is that an order? My bath, that is.” She
smiled, feeling a comfort she had never thought to feel with a
man.

“Need it be?”

It pleased her that he made it seem she had
a choice.

“Nay, it need not be, a bath sounds much too
inviting to deny.”

Her hand slipped down over his chest to the
blanket. It was a lingering descent, and one he felt through his
shirt.

He wished—he stood abruptly, forcing his
thoughts away from where they insisted on drifting. He was about to
give her a bath. He damn well did not need to be dwelling on
intimacy.

“Rest, I will prepare everything.”

She snuggled beneath the covers, her body
feeling a sudden chill. It was from no draft or cold drift of wind.
It was from the anticipation of Royce holding her naked in his arms
and helping her to bathe.

The cottage door closed quietly behind him,
and in mere minutes he would return with the tub. She so wanted a
bath, just the thought of the heated water soaking her skin made
her sigh with pleasure. And why should she concern herself with
thoughts of how he viewed her body? He was not her husband.

She cringed at the thought. Here she was
alone in a cottage with a man who was more a stranger than not and
who looked after her and touched her with the intimacy of a
husband.

“Nay, not intimacy,” she whispered. He
touched her with respect, not once laying an intimate hand on
her.

Why, then, had she thought of intimacy when
his hand touched her of late?

The door opened, Royce entered, and
immediately went about preparing the tub for a bath.

“It will take a while to heat enough water
for the tub,” he said, moving the table to the side and placing the
tub in front of the hearth.

Brianna was surprised at the size of the
half-barrel. It would hold her comfortably, and it would hold Royce
if he bent his knees. The thought startled her, for she was not
certain if she thought of them taking separate baths or bathing
together.

Her remark surprised her even more. “Do you
not wish a bath?”

“When you are done.”

“The water will be cold.” Whatever was she
saying? It sounded like an invitation to her. Did it to him?

His brief pause warned that he might have
thought the same. “I have taken cold baths before.”

“When
necessary
I assume.” She
continued sounding as though she wished him to join her. Whatever
was the matter with her?

He turned after setting a large pot he had
filled with snow to heat. “Aye, when necessary.”

She bit her tongue so she would say no more.
The accident must have given her a good knock on the head and a
degree of courage, for she would have never suggested such an idea
to her husband, let alone a man she knew but a week’s time.

She decided it was best to talk of a safer
subject. That subject, she decided, was him. “Is this your
home?”

He was waiting for specific questions to
start. With her returning strength came courage, not to mention
curiosity.

He would tell her only so much. “Not my
permanent home.”

“Where is your permanent home?”

“A bit north.”

He evaded direct answers, but bits and
pieces of a person once put together could tell much.

“The battle you recently fought was near
your home?”

“Nay,” he answered and then poured the
heated water into the tub, filling the large pot once again and
setting it to heat. He gave her no chance to continue her
questioning. “One more pot after this and there will be enough
water for me to put you in the tub. I will continue to add hot
water so that your bathwater does not chill.”

“You are most considerate.”

He made no comment. How could he when his
mind was being anything but considerate? She had placed a
suggestion in his mind that had taken root and insisted on growing.
The idea of joining her in the tub was too tempting to ignore, yet
ignore it he must.

A cold bath was definitely
necessary
.

Brianna remained quiet, her own thoughts
worrisome.

It had not been difficult having him tend
her when she was completely incapacitated, for she could barely
think clearly. And she could not move without pain. Now, though it
was different, while the pain persisted, it was a level of pain she
could handle, and her mind was clear now and her eyes open. They
would not drift shut while she bathed as they often did when he
looked after her.

Now she would see clearly his reaction to
her nakedness, and the thought troubled her.

He arranged a large towel on the floor and
placed another on a small bench he had brought to rest beside the
tub. “It will be ready soon.”

Soon.

Soon he would remove the blankets and take
her into his arms. Soon. She trembled, her legs felt weak, and her
heart thudded in her chest. She was being foolish, so very foolish.
He would place her in the tub and it would be done. The water would
cover her, and he would look away from her.

Was that what she wanted?

She silently scolded herself. Whatever was
wrong with her? Why was she having intimate thoughts of this
man?

She had not thought of a man and intimacy in
a very long time. Her husband had destroyed all her girlhood dreams
of love and being loved. She had closed her heart off to protect
herself from the pain of a loveless marriage. She had sworn to
herself that she would not ever care for another man and never
would she love again.

“Ready?”

Royce stood over her, his large size
intimidating, though she felt no intimidation from him. It was her
own insecurities that caused her to tremble.

She nodded, fearful her voice would betray
her nervousness.

He hesitated a moment as though having a
second thought, then he stepped back away from the bed, slipped the
strip of plaid that ran over his shoulder down to hang at his
waist, and hurried out of his linen shirt as though he might change
his mind.

He approached the bed again, this time the
size of him intimidating.

She had seen his chest before but not nearly
as clearly as she did now. He was twice the size her husband had
been, and his muscles were much more pronounced, almost as if his
flesh were carved around the thick muscles.

His chest was broad, his stomach hard, and
his arms powerful. He was an opponent most men would fear and a man
that women would admire.

“I do not want a wet shirt,” he said, as if
he felt it necessary to explain his partial nakedness.

She nodded again and sent a silent prayer to
the heavens for strength.

He eased back the blankets. “You may feel a
chill.”

She remained silent, not trusting her voice,
and kept her eyes on him. She told herself to look away and not
watch him. That was not possible; she was compelled to keep her
eyes on him.

He eased the blankets off her all the way
down to her feet. “You are cold, you tremble.”

She trembled from her nervousness, but this
she would not tell him.

He was quick to effortlessly snatch her up
into his arms and hold her close to him.

She noticed that his eyes did not linger nor
did they avoid her body. He simply did what was necessary. His
focus was on his task, and his eyes?

They caught her own glance as he leaned over
to place her in the tub. ‘Tell me if the water is a comfortable
temperature for you.”

He lowered her toes in and she sighed, a
smile following. “It is heavenly.”

He laughed softly and lowered her further
into the tub. “I will hold you until you can rest comfortably on
your own.”

He wanted no repeat of the early day’s
incident. He intended to make certain that she felt no pain, only
pure pleasure.

The heated water evaporated her nervousness.
It was not lukewarm or unbearably hot, but seemed the perfect
temperature for soothing her aches and pains. She sighed again and
relaxed against his arm that wrapped firmly around her back.

Her eyes drifted closed for a moment and his
glance drifted over her. She possessed a beautiful body, all curves
and mounds in just the right places. And pale skin that was
blushing pink from the heated water.

He shook his head. It was time to let go of
her; her warming flesh was beginning to feel much too pleasing to
his touch.

“Do you think you can sit on your own?”

She heard the reluctance in his voice, and
she mistakenly thought that he assumed her too weak. Her courage
surfaced. “Aye, I can.”

“Sure of it, then?” he teased, hearing the
bravado in her voice.

“Let go and we will see,” she
challenged.

He accepted, though it was with a slow hand
he released her to rest on her own.

It was barely a minute and her smile was
wide when the pain in her back began. Her first thought was to
ignore it, but she had made that mistake earlier. She would not be
foolish enough to repeat it.

Her hand went out to him. “Royce.”

His arm wrapped around her back and beneath
her breast, taking her full weight. “What is it?”

“The pain in my lower back worsens when I
place pressure on it.”

She sounded upset and he understood. She had
hoped to relax in the bath and now she could not. Not without his
help. “You can rest against my arm.”

She produced a weak smile. “You will grow
tired of holding me.”

“Never,” he said without thinking.

“You are too kind to me. I should wash and
get out right away so that I do not burden—”

His firm voice cut her off. “You are not a
burden. You will enjoy your bath.”

“How can I when you must kneel here and hold
me? It is not fair.” Her voice was just as firm.

“You will do as I say and enjoy the bath.”
He thought his direct remark would end the matter; after all he had
warned her of obeying him.

“I will not enjoy the bath if you must
remain in such an awkward stance to tend me.”

“I do not mind.”

“I do.”

“There is no other way,” he said
adamantly.

“Aye, there is,” she insisted. “You can join
me and I can rest against you.”

Brianna’s remark stunned him silent. Her
remark that followed stunned him even more by making sense.

“It is
necessary.”

He did not wish to admit that she was
correct, that her suggestion made perfect sense. And that he was
going to get what he wished. He was going to join Brianna in the
tub.

“I can manage to sit for a moment on my own
if you can undress with haste.”

He wanted to laugh, nay maybe cry at her
words, for he could disrobe within seconds knowing he would ease
his naked body behind hers. Instead he remained calm outwardly
while inwardly his emotions turned chaotic.

His warrior skills had taught him the art of
remaining calm under extreme pressure, and he called on those
skills now, or else he feared he would lose this battle with
himself.

“Let me add more hot water first. Then I
will ease your weight for a moment and then undress.”

“Aye, I can manage that.”

‘Tell me when you feel comfortable enough
for me to release you.”

She nodded, took several deep breaths, and
grabbed hold of the sides of the tub. “Now.”

Her voice sounded unsure, but it was better
that he did not question her, for courage sometimes disappeared
when questioned. He released her slowly then quickly set to work,
adding the heated water to the tub. His arm was around her again
before the pain could trouble her.

“The heat feels so good. You must come join
me and enjoy it.”

He thought it would have been wise to douse
himself in the snow before joining her in the tub, but that was not
possible. He had to remember how she trusted him to keep her safe,
but damned if he knew how long he could keep her safe from him.

She took several deep breaths again.
“Ready.”

He let go of her, stood, and flew out of his
clothes. He noticed she had shut her eyes, and that brought a smile
to his face. Wait until she leaned back against him; he wondered
then if her eyes would remain closed or widen.