Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Extremely evil.”
“Then he got what he deserved, just as you said.”
“You don’t know me, yet you accept my word as truth.”
“What would you have me do after seeing you kill a man and hearing you killed his brother?” she asked and popped the piece of bread into her mouth.
He nodded slowly, a slight smile to his mouth. “You are a wise woman.”
“All healers are wise women.”
“Wise about plants and ways to heal, but not always about life itself,” he said.
“As in all things, wisdom comes with time. It cannot be rushed, for lessons would be missed.”
“And what have you learned about life thus far?” he asked.
“That life is like the Highland weather… unpredictable, sunny one moment, stormy the next.”
She was right about that, though his life had been filled with endless storms of late.
“Has your life been more sunny or stormy?” he asked as a yawn crept up on him.
“A bit of both.”
Quint placed the empty bowl and cloth on the chest beside the bed, yawning again.
“You should sleep some,” Shade said and went to feel his brow after he lay prone. “It lingers but at least the fever hasn’t risen.”
He rested his hand over hers to keep it there, telling himself it was the coolness he sought, but wondering if it was her gentle touch that truly comforted him.
“Your hand feels good.”
“It is the coolness that feels good,” she said and gently removed his hand so she could remove hers.
Once again, he was sorry for the loss of her touch and surprised when she returned and pressed a cool, wet cloth against his brow. He said nothing. He simply closed his eyes and let himself linger in her soothing touch.
Late that night Shade woke to him thrashing around in the bed. His fever had spiked again. It was difficult to calm him enough to get cold cloths to stay on his brow or to slip a spoonful of the brew into his mouth.
He gripped her wrist when she went to remove the cloth from his brow and once again, she was reminded how much it felt like a shackle. He yanked her against him, their faces so close that their noses almost touched.
“You gave me your word.”
“And I will keep it,” she reassured him, not knowing what he was referring to and hoping by appeasing him that he would calm down.
“You didn’t keep it. You left me,” he accused angrily.
“I won’t do that again,” she said, keeping her voice calm and agreeable.
“I forbid you to leave,” he ordered harshly.
“Aye, I will obey your word,” she said, continuing her feigned submission in hopes it would soothe him.
The anger faded from his eyes replaced with a look that Shade did not quite understand. His hand suddenly left her wrist to grip the back of her neck.
“I love you. You are mine and I will not let you go,” he said and forced her head down for their lips to meet.
His grip was far too strong to break free of it and foolish as it was, she did not want to. She had never been kissed, never had a man tell her that he loved her or claim ‘you are mine.’ Even though she knew those words were not meant for her, she let herself think they were so that she could feel what it was like to be kissed.
His lips claimed hers with a strength that had her whole body tingling. It was a hungry kiss like someone who had gone too long without food and was now famished. It was a kiss filled with need that could not and would not be denied, and it was a kiss filled with love. She could feel it all in him, see the way his heart reacted, thumping madly against his chest. Those thoughts sobered Shade and brought her to her senses. This wasn’t right. He was not kissing her. He was kissing someone he had lost and loved, not her.
It took her a few moments, a few kisses to get him to stop and for her to ease herself away from him and for him to settle down. Cool, wet cloths helped as did soothing words that she hoped were similar to what the woman he loved would say to him.
His restlessness finally stopped, and he slept peacefully but he would not let go of her hand. He had taken hold of it shortly after the kissing ended and he had yet to release it. He held it firmly as if afraid to let go, as if afraid of losing her again.
Shade sat there thinking how lucky the woman had been to know such a strong, unwavering love, to feel it in his kisses, his touch, and no doubt every time they made love. A single tear slipped down her cheek, sad for him and the woman losing such a strong, indelible love. Something she would never know, never feel before death claimed her.