He lay there thinking of Aliss as he did most of the day. She forever invaded his thoughts, and without her here beside him she continued to haunt his mind. He forced his eyes closed and before long they drifted open and he found himself staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
A strange thought came to him. He would spend many nights here staring at the ceiling and it would be a good idea to have it painted with an interesting scene. Then he would have something to gaze at while waiting for his wife’s return.
He laughed to himself. He was planning a future with Aliss and it felt so very right. He turned on his side and looked at the pillow where Aliss rested her head. In a very short time, he had grown accustomed to having her there beside him. He would not want to sleep without her and would not want to wake without her there.
He threw off the blanket, pulled on his shirt, his plaid, and his sandals, and hurried out of the room. He would go to Aliss and wait for her no matter how long it took.
Rogan entered the cottage quietly though Aliss turned her head and acknowledged him with a nod as he closed the door. He took a seat in a wooden chair near the fireplace and settled in to wait for his wife.
He was snoring in no time.
Aliss heard the familiar sound and smiled as she bathed Teresa’s forehead with a cool cloth. The fever lingered though it raged no more and she was certain that in a couple of hours it would be gone completely.
She dipped the cloth in the bowl of water to rinse the heat from it and caught the sight of her husband, legs stretched out, arms folded across his chest and his head lolled to the side, sound asleep.
She smiled as she recalled his earlier gift. In his haste to offer her a token to prove his love, he had plucked a flower out by the roots. His thoughtfulness had touched her heart and the exposed roots made her think of their own love that had been carelessly uprooted and discarded without care.
Should she give him a chance in his quest to prove his love? Or was he simply doing it to keep what meant more to him—the isle.
Aliss returned her attention to Teresa. Finally, three hours before dawn, her fever vanished and she rested comfortably.
Anna’s entrance stirred Rogan awake but did not surprise Aliss. She knew her helper would arrive early to relieve her even though she had insisted Anna’s help was not necessary.
“I could not sleep any longer,” Anna said once at Aliss’s side. “How is Teresa?”
“The fever is finally gone and she sleeps.”
“Then I will stay with her while you go sleep yourself.”
Aliss did not argue. She was tired. She stood and stretched and winced at the ache in her neck and shoulders.
Her husband’s strong hands were suddenly there massaging the sore muscles.
“Let’s go home to bed so that I can tend your aches,” he whispered.
He eased her into the crook of his arm and she went willingly, her tense muscles insisting she capitulate and her body warning her she was headed for trouble. Even worn out from the long night, she felt the flutter of passion beginning to stir. It always did when he touched her.
They walked in silence to the keep and up to their bedchamber.
She changed into her night shift and slipped into bed beside him, thinking she should tell him she was tired and wanted to sleep.
But as soon as she stretched out, he gently turned her on her stomach, straddled her hips, and went to work on her sore neck and shoulder muscles. His fingers worked magic, kneading, squeezing, forcing her aches away, and she did not protest.
She let him have his way.
His thumbs worked in circles at the base of her neck and she moaned from the relief he brought her. He expanded to her shoulders, urging the taut muscles to relax with strong manipulation. They surrendered one by one and he moved down her back, attacking every tight muscle he discovered.
His hips swayed along with his movements and she found her passion stirring little by little as he eased himself down over her bottom, his hands massaging up and down her spine.
He nestled between her legs fully aroused and yet he made not a move to make love to her. He simply continued massaging her with his powerful hands until her body was completely limp and pliable and thoroughly aroused.
She was ready for him.
It would be easy once she turned over to guide him into her. She was more than moist, she was saturated with desire for him. He would claim her nipples with his mouth and send her into a fast and furious climax then bring her to climax again along with himself.
But while her body ached with desire, her heart ached for love.
He slipped off her.
She quickly turned on her side, curling her legs up, fisting her hands to her chest in an effort to protect her aching heart. Her breath caught for a moment, anticipating he would turn and wrap his arms around her.