How to Woo... A Reluctant Bride (8 page)

She might be fantasizing about a man of base morals or a man with a wife and four children. Or, what if he was a clergyman? That she doubted considering his skill with weapons and his readiness to fight, but what gentleman would watch an innocent woman get attacked by thieves and not come to her rescue?

A man does what needs must
. Even a man of the cloth will take up a pistol if his life or his country demanded it. She had seen boys barely old enough to carry a gun with gaping holes in their chest and villages ravaged and burned in the war.

And this man would die like the rest, if she did not do her duty to him. He’d saved her and now she must do the same for him.

With such thoughts distracting her, she didn’t realize she’d paused her singing until she heard a low, gravelly voice.

“Sing.”

She looked down to see dark eyes watching her.

“You are awake!”

“Sing,” he repeated, but he’d barely finished the word when a ragged cough took over his body.

“
A belt of straw and ivy buds, with coral clasps and amber studs, and if these pictures may thee move, come live with me and
—”

“Be my love.” His voice was hoarse, even more than she expected for someone who’d slept for two days. She lifted from the bed to pour water from the pitcher into a cup.

When she lifted the cup to his lips, he coughed and it dribbled down his chin. “Easy.” They tried again, but still, most of the water ended up down his chest. His tunic absorbed the excess liquid and clung tightly to his body, so she could see every line and curve. His nipples hardened again.

“Let me try this another way,” she said. This time, she dipped her fingers into the cup and let the water drip into his mouth.

He opened wide for more. She leaned closer, her bosom near his face, and poured more water from her fingers.

After the third time, he put her two fingers to his lips and sucked them. A flash of heat shot through her limbs. If she’d been standing, she would have faltered and lost her balance.

His mouth was hot and she suspected it had little to do with his fever.

“More,” he whispered. He stared at her and she could not move, could not speak.

There was a knock behind them and that jolted her out of her frozen state. Miriam stood in the doorway with ice and more water. The man groaned.

She motioned for the maid to come in. As soon as the girl was close, Violet took a tiny chip of ice and put it in the man’s mouth.

The ice would help his thirst, but she also was afraid for him to speak. The need in his eyes was too real, too close to the desire that she felt. But he was a stranger. A beautiful, dark, bewitching stranger who had risked his life for her, yet she knew almost nothing about him.

A fact that she could remedy. No. What was she thinking? He was wounded, disoriented, and who knows if he mistook her for his wife or some mistress. A sharp pang twisted in her gut. Did he have a mistress? She’d already considered that he could be married, but she hadn’t thought about the possibility of a mistress.

He was a virile, handsome man with a body any sculptor would worship and carve into stone. She’d seen it all, every wicked inch of him. The thought of that body being pleasured by some other woman made her ill.

“Do you or the gentleman need anything else, my lady?”

“Perhaps the cook has some broth. But please make sure it is tepid, not hot.”

Miriam set down the tray of ice and curtsied before exiting the room.

He rubbed his temples, then when Miriam was gone, he turned back to her. Though he whispered the word, “Water,” his eyes said something else.

She plopped another ice sliver into his mouth. He sucked on it, watching her still. She felt a flush run down from her ears to her belly. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought his fever was catching.

A foolish part of her longed to demand if he had a mistress, but she bit her lip. That was not the first question she should ask him. And, he was so weak, it was better if he didn’t speak at all.

She put her hand to his mouth. “Do not try to speak, sir. You are weary and hoarse.”

He opened his mouth and before he could argue, she fed him another ice chip.

“You have a fever and you need to rest.”

His forehead was still warm. It could be a long night if his fever didn’t break. But he was at least alert for now, which was a good sign.

She stood up, intending to move aside the blankets and leave him with the sheet, but he reached for her arm.

“Don’t.” Under his stare, she froze again. “Do not. Leave.” Though the words were gravelly and low, it was a command, not a plea.

“Very well.”

She pulled aside the blankets, careful not to touch his thighs, and moved a chair close to the bed. The mere foot of space between her seat and the bed seemed much farther. Every little movement made her aware of the hard chair beneath her and the cool air brushing over her skin.

She missed the heat of his body next to hers.

Vivienne’s website

If you enjoy Contemporary Romantic Comedy, you might enjoy:

Worth The Risk

by

Lyn O’Farrell

Children’s librarian Amanda Lloyd values privacy above all else. Three years ago her wedding ended in disaster when her groom was arrested at the altar and the story of the ‘Embezzler’s Bride’ appeared in the supermarket tabloids. The experience has left her determined to avoid being caught in the public eye again. Until she meets a sexy single dad with a scandalous past.

Ex-race car driver Mitch Delaney is a public figure whose life has been plastered across the tabloids more than once. But he believes that anything worth doing is worth a risk. After the death of his ex-wife, he moved to Southern California to take care of his son Josh. He doesn’t need the complication of a woman in his life, especially since Josh’s grandparents have filed suit for custody. But Josh is on the hunt for a new mother and he has his heart set on Miss Amanda, and Mitch can’t fault his son’s taste.

For more information, go to:
Worth the Risk