The Mandate of Heaven (29 page)

He fell to his knees, as if in benediction that he had found her alive—at least for now.  However, he was worried by her pale pallor, the horrific injury to her leg and obvious blood loss.

Again she tried to say something, but it was drowned out by the ferocity of the storm raging around them.  Leaning forward, closer, so he could hear her, she tried again.  “Sorry, so sorry,” she whimpered, miserably.  Alex felt something bubbling up inside of him, trying to claw itself free.  Ever since he’d found the window open and her missing, he’d felt the anger growing inside of him.  During their search he had stoked it, adding fuel to the flames until it had grown to a raging inferno inside him.

“Don’t,” he snapped, brushing away a strand of hair that had become plastered to her forehead.  “I don’t want to hear any excuses or justifications for this lunacy.  You could have died, and still may.  I would kill you myself, were it not for the little matter of your father.  I’ve had to tell too many parents of the loss of their loved ones, to see something shrivel up and die in their eyes.  I can’t and I won’t ever do that again.”

“Cold,” she shivered and her eyes lost their momentary focus as she began to drift off once again.

“Don’t you dare,” Alex snapped his fingers, slapping the ground next to her, sending muddy droplets flying.  “Stay awake and focus on me.”

“Sleep,” she slurred listlessly.  “So tired.”

“To hell with that,” Alex snarled taking both her cold cheeks in the palm of his hands, angling her head up, using his own to shield her from the rain.  He clamped his lips over her icy-cold ones, the shock causing her eyes to open wide and gasp.  He took the opportunity, forcing his tongue past her lips, plunging it into her mouth.  Kissing her with an intensity and desperation that took even him by surprise.  He poured everything he had into her, all the anger, worry and pain that he’d been nurturing ever since he discovered her missing.  Trying to tell her the things that he could never voice out loud; that he didn’t care about the money, but her, only her, forever.  In his life, his house, his heart.  Her coughing brought him at least back to his senses and he opened his eyes, staring into her alert gaze.

“You need to go and get help,” she whispered urgently.  “I’ve tried to prise open the snare, but the spring is too strong and I can’t manage it.”

Alex glanced down at the steel teeth embedded deep into her ankle.  The spikes were designed to stop an animal tearing itself free, and the twelve inch jaw would have to be forced open to release her foot.  Quickly unzipping his jacket, he wrapped it around her, helping to shield her from the rain and give her whatever remained of its warmth.  Within seconds his cotton shirt was soaked through, not that he paid it any attention, taking hold of the jaws of the snare and trying to pull them apart.

They didn’t budge.

“Alex,” Jessica retorted.  “Leave it. I have already tried, they’re too strong.  Go and get help.”

“You know, I think I preferred you comatose,” he gasped between gritted teeth, spreading his shoulders wide to try and get better leverage on the jaws.

“Alex please get help.  Leave me here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“No!” he screamed, his vision darkening dangerously, as he put his entire being into prising the two jaws apart.  With a loud ping, the spring snapped and the jaws came apart, releasing her leg.

“But how did you do that?” She looked first at the broken snare and then at her leg now free.  She shook her head, “I must have lost even more blood than I thought.”  Using her hands, she carefully pushed herself up into a sitting position, before rolling over onto her knees, and then by carefully levering herself up, she was able to stand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Alex screamed.  He scrambled to his feet having regained his breath.

“I’m fine,” Jessica retorted.  “I can walk back myself, it’s not as if I need you to carry—” She wavered on her feet slightly, turning a slickly shade of grey.  “On second thoughts perhaps…” With that she slipped into a dead faint.  Alex only managed to catch her at the last moment and stopped her falling back into the mud.

“Great,” he sighed.  “Now you decide to pass out on me.”  Grunting, he lifted her into his arms, making sure that Lucifer was close behind, and he turned round, heading back for home.

*****

The first thing that he did upon arriving home was to boil some water and, after carefully cleaning her injured leg, he inspected the wound, and was relieved to find that the injury wasn’t as bad as he first thought.  While it had bled profusely, the lacerations were not deep, barely penetrating the layer of muscles.  After making sure that the wound was thoroughly clean, he dressed it with clean bandages.  Which left him with the pressing problem of what next to do with her.  She hadn’t roused once during the journey back and he’d already dismissed Mary for the evening, to allow her to enjoy the celebrations.  Which left him with one unconscious, and half-drowned woman, on his hands.

“Come on Alex,” he voiced aloud.  “Get a grip, you can do this.  This is survival, not seduction.”  He blew on his freezing hands in an attempt to warm them up, before laughing nervously, realising that she wasn’t in any state to notice.  He quickly and efficiently stripped her to her underwear before slipping on one of his large, oversized shirts.  He was relieved to see that it almost reached down to her thighs.  Turning her onto her stomach, he quickly divested her of her bra, and then decided that was more than enough, before sliding her under the blankets.

Relived to have that chore over and done with, he quickly ridded himself of his own wet clothes, drying off the excess water with a towel and made his way to her room.  With the window left open and the fire long since extinguished, he’d decided to give Jessica his room and bed, again.  While her room was freezing, he didn’t mind, the cold would do him some good, cooling his ardour and taking his mind off his earlier actions.

Deciding to check on her one last time, he found her lips blue and she was shivering uncontrollably.  His first thought was to prepare a warm bath, but he quickly dispelled that idea.  With the time it would take to heat the water, then carry it upstairs, she would have died from hyperthermia three times over.

He didn’t even need to refer to his survival training to know the next best course of action.  He tiredly rubbed the palm of his hand against his eyes.  He was physically exhausted from the earlier search and then having to carry her all the way back to the house.  All he wanted to do was sleep, hence the likelihood of him molesting her in his slumber, was pretty remote.

Rubbing his scratchy eyes, he slid into the bed next to her and, taking a deep breath, he rolled over, pulling her close to him, so as to share his body heat before willing himself to sleep.

It was a long time coming.

*****

He noticed, with some amusement, that she woke the same as always—sliding her hands under the pillow, reaching for her pistol, that wasn’t there.  “I was rather hoping that you wouldn’t need that,” he said.

She immediately rolled over to come face-to-face with him.  Alex wondered how she would react if he leaned forward to give her a good morning kiss.  Instead, she blinked sleepily, staring at him for several confused seconds.  “What are you doing here, in my bed?”

“Actually you’re in
my
bed, again,” Alex shrugged.  “I should point out that this seems to be becoming a regular occurrence.  Perhaps I should just ask Mary to relocate your belongings to my room?”  Having half scared him out of his mind last night, she was long overdue some retribution.

“But why?”

“The usual reason,” he shrugged.  “You passed out on me.  Again.”

“What!  Why?” she sat up abruptly.  “Wait.  I remember now.  The storm, the rain, I caught my foot in some sort of snare.”

“Not mine, I assure you.  They’re prohibited on my land, but I have an ongoing problem with poachers.  I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he added warningly as she was about to throw back the covers and make a quick exit.  “Normally I sleep in my shirt, however it was drenched last night, and you’re currently wearing my only spare so—”

“You’re naked under there?” she asked with a horrified expression.

“As the day I was born,” Alex clarified cheerfully.

“By the Gods…” she sighed, slumping back onto the bed, her head resting on the pillow, eyes closed resignedly.

“I don’t think your father would be pleased to hear that particular prayer,” Alex said warningly.  “Roll over,” he said, poking her in the side.

“Why?  Am I on your side of the bed?” she demanded sarcastically.

“No,” Alex replied grimly, “but you do have a nasty leg wound.  I want to check your bandage.”

“Oh,” she replied quietly.  “I’d forgotten about that.”  The last came out as a high-pitched squeak as he tossed the covers back.  “I thought you said you were naked?”

“I am,” he replied calmly.  “So if you don’t want to peek, I suggest you just keep your eyes closed.”

“Right,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.  “How does it look?”

“From where I’m sitting, pretty damn good,” Alex whistled, observing the curve of her spine, his shirt having ridden up during the night, until it barely covered her bottom.

“Ow, I’m stiff all over,” she exclaimed, arching her back like a kitten.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered, but helpless to her request, he reached out with his hands, probing gently with his fingers, until he found the tight bundle of nerves, before pressing, firmly.

“Oh, that feels so good,” she hummed.

He nibbled at her shoulder.  “Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh…that’s unfair.”

He smiled.  His body, completely unconcerned with tact or patience, was already tightening, thickening.  It was fruitless, he knew.  But he couldn’t help hoping he was making some headway.  She arched her neck, just a little, as if at war with her own body.

“Relax,” he instructed.

Instead of sitting back though, he let his hand drift gently across the lovely swell of her breasts, watching his fingers rise and dip.  He could hear the rasp of her breathing; he saw her nipples tighten and press against his shirt.  He wanted his mouth on them, his tongue.  He wanted to suckle until she shrieked.  He settled for just brushing his fingers back and forth, back and forth, so lightly he knew she couldn’t complain, so slowly he couldn’t frighten her.

Her eyes were drifting shut, her head drooping back against the pillow.

Her fingers were opening and closing on her lap.  Alex hadn’t meant to become even this intimate.  He wasn’t certain how far she would allow him to progress.  His heart had begun to thud in his chest, and his groin was a giant ache.  He was going to be in for a long cold bath later.

Bending over, not even breathing for fear he would startle her, he laid his lips against the swell of her breast.  Her reaction was instantaneous.  She gasped, twisting and pushing at him.  It didn’t take Alex a second to understand.  But instead of backing off, he held her.  He could hear the rasp of her breathing and saw the wild look in her eyes and realised that he wasn’t frightening her.  He knew he could do only one thing.  Freeing one hand, he pushed her sleeve down.  She flinched, not breathing, staring at anything but him, with eyes as big as saucers.  He leaned over and laid his lips back down on her.

She froze.  He moved to the other breast and repeated his action.  He felt a sob catch in her chest.

“You have never been more beautiful,” he reassured her.  “It’s a wonder I can keep my hands off you.”

She said not a word, but he felt her stiffen.  He kissed her again, at the juncture of her throat.  She softened a bit.  Reaching down, he clasped her hand in his and protected it as he tasted her exposed skin.  One kiss, then another.  A quick brush of the tongue that left him rigid and painful.  Her breasts were so firm, so high, her nipple clearly outlined against the thin cotton of his shirt.  He licked across her breast and then, gently, blew until he saw goose bumps.  He felt her pulse begin to race and her breath grow shallow, until her eyes fluttered completely closed and she trusted him enough to rest against his arm.

He was shaking with the effort of trying to control his body.  He was dying with hope.  He wanted to span her waist with his hands and taste her, taunt her and stoke the passion he knew flowed through her.

But he couldn’t.  Not yet.

Not if he wanted her to ever trust him again, because suddenly that was more important than the hot arousal she was unleashing.  It was more imperative than pleasure, or peace.  Suddenly he knew that he wasn’t finished with his responsibilities.  This might well kill him, but it would be worth it if he could set her free, to choose her own destiny.

Lifting his head, he gazed down on the lush beauty of her face, now flushed and softened with arousal.  He bent close to her, breathing softly to enable her to feel it on her cheek.  Gently, so gently, she might think it her imagination, he met her lips with his.

“Open for me,” he commanded softly.

Her eyes flew open.  Her pupils were huge, almost drowning the clear blue of her eyes.  He saw a flash of fear; but he also saw hunger.  He knew she was fighting him and decided to help.  Bending back to her, he dropped a kiss along the very corner of her mouth.  She instinctively turned to him.  He deepened the kiss, searching her lips with his own, pressing, savouring the luxury of her mouth.  He pulled her lower lip between his teeth and sucked at it.