“I won’t leave this time, warrior. I’ll stay with you.”
His arm curled around her, pulling her until she was forced down to his side. “I’ll not let you go this time,” he vowed.
Keeley refused to look at Alaric’s brothers. She had no desire to see the irritation or condemnation in Caelen’s eyes. She’d seen enough of that to last her a lifetime. If he had a single word to say to her after dragging her from her bed, she’d belt him right across the face and damn the consequences.
Luckily she heard no sound from that quarter. Only the soft shutting of the door alerted her to the fact that she and Alaric were alone.
She snuggled into his side and smoothed her hand over his taut belly. “Sleep now, warrior. Your angel will be ever close. This I swear.”
He made a sound of contentment and his body went slack, all the fight leaving his muscles. He squeezed his arm around her until not a single part of her wasn’t touching him in some way.
He went immediately to sleep, but despite Keeley’s overwhelming fatigue, she lay awake for a long time, savoring the sensation of lying in her warrior’s arms.
When she next opened her eyes, sunlight was straining around the furs covering the window. The fire had died down in the hearth and only a few glowing embers remained. Despite the chill that she knew was probably present in the room, she was bathed in warmth. So cozy and comfortable that she didn’t move a single muscle.
Alaric’s arm was still wound tightly around her waist and she was pressed up tight to his side, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder.
Her hand glided over his chest and finally up to rest against his cheek. To her delight, his skin was much cooler and not as dry as it had been over the past hours. Cool sweat shimmered on his forehead and she pried herself out of his arms to rise excitedly.
As she looked down at his face, she was surprised by how clear his eyes were. No haze of confusion darkened the light green orbs.
Then he smiled up at her and to her utter shock, he reached up and pulled her down on top of him.
“You’re mad!” she hissed as she struggled to move to his uninjured side. “You’re going to tear your stitches and I spent the better part of two hours setting them!”
“So my angel is real,” he murmured, not letting her wiggle out of his grasp.
“Your assessment of a demon was more accurate,” she gritted out.
He chuckled and then winced.
“See? You should be lying still, not dragging me over your body,” she said in exasperation.
“But I like you on my body,” he purred. “I like it very much. In fact, I barely feel my injury now. All I feel is your softness against my flesh. Your breasts pressed into my chest.”
Heat crept over her shoulders and up her neck over her cheeks. She refused to meet his gaze and focused instead on his shoulder.
“Do you know what would make me feel even better?” he husked out.
She chanced a peek at him to see him studying her intently, his eyes glowing in the faint light that bled through the furs.
“What?” she asked nervously.
“A kiss.”
She shook her head even as she tried to wiggle off his chest again. He caught her against him and then reached with his free hand to cup her chin.
Ignoring her protests, he raised his head and fit his lips to hers. It wasn’t clear who had the fever. Him or her. Heat seared through her body. ’Twas a wondrous sensation. Heady. Sinfully sweet.
Her head spun and she felt incredibly light, like she’d taken flight and drifted among the clouds. She let out a sigh and melted into his strong body.
His fingers splayed out over her back and he rubbed up and down. When they reached her nape, he gripped her neck and delved his fingers into her hair, pulling her down to meet the intensity of his kiss.
“Alaric,” she whispered.
“I like the sound of my name on your lips, lass. Now tell me yours so I may know the name of my angel.”
She sighed in exasperation at how quickly he turned away her objections.
“My name is Keeley.”
“Keeley,” he murmured. “Such a beautiful name. Fitting for such a beautiful lass.”
“You must let me up,” she said firmly. “Your brothers will be up any moment now. They’re most concerned about your injury. I need to look at the stitches to make sure they’re holding, and if you feel strong enough, you should eat.”
“I’d rather kiss you.”
Foregoing her gentle reproach, she balled her fist and gave him a thump on the chest. To her surprise, he laughed but relinquished his hold on her.
She scrambled off his chest and smoothed her wrinkled clothing and disheveled hair. She probably looked like she’d been dunked in the loch and then dragged behind a horse.