“You can take a few moments and eat first.”
She glanced up at him with a smile. “Is that an order, husband?”
He liked being addressed as her husband, and smiled. “No, a concern.”
“A thoughtful husband. I like that.” She patted his chest. “I just need to set the bread to baking and then I can spare a little time to eat, though I would prefer to remain close to Mary.” She turned and looked at the old woman asleep in the bed. “I’m worried about her. She’s so frail.”
Artair nodded. “I’ll get us some food and we can eat right outside. It’s warm and the sun is bright. I’m sure you can use some fresh air.”
Besides, part of him was selfish; he wanted some time with her, even if it was only a short time. He knew she’d be back to healing the sick soon enough, but for now he’d have her to himself.
He sat on a bench just outside the cottage door. When he requested some food for the healer from the villagers, he was given more than he needed, but accepted it with appreciation. These people were grateful for her help and they showed it.
When Zia joined him and quickly dug into the basket of food, he wasn’t surprised. “I told you that you were hungry,” he said, laughing.
She nodded, her mouth full.
He didn’t interrupt her meal with senseless chatter. He enjoyed sitting in silence watching her take pleasure in every morsel she put in her mouth, and the way she tilted her head back now and again so the sun could kiss her face. She relished her life; whether healing or simply sitting, she found pleasure in it all, and suddenly he wanted some of that enduring passion. He wanted her.
“You are beautiful,” he said.
Her smile and eyes brightened simultaneously. “You really mean that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She shook her head slowly, the brightness in her face never fading. “It’s just that I could see it your face.” She stretched her hand out, her fingertips grazing along the corner of his eye. “Here. I see the depths of truth here, and it touches my heart.”
He would have kissed her then and there if an anxious woman hadn’t interrupted them.
“Another young one has fallen ill,” the plump, tired-eyed woman said, twisting her hands fretfully.
Zia stood and without a word went off with the woman. Just when she almost disappeared from sight, she turned and waved at him. He understood her well enough now to not take it as an afterthought. It pleased him that he had entered her thoughts and that she had acknowledged him.
He wasn’t sure about what was happening or certain of the feelings stirring inside him, though he knew that he wanted Zia in his life, and not just as a brief interlude. He sat there for a while thinking that only a few days ago he hadn’t even known her, and now thought of her as a permanent part of his life. He most certainly must be foolish.
Foolishly in love.
He would have laughed if it wasn’t so serious. He couldn’t possibly believe he was in love with Zia. That he was attracted to her, cared about her, admired her—yes. But love? That was something else that took more than a few days to determine.
He continued to sit there as the sun wilted in the sky, luscious scents drifted out of the cottage chimneys, villagers meandered to their homes, and evening settled around them. And still…
He continued to think of Zia.
Chapter 13
Zia rubbed the back of her neck and down along her shoulder. The stiffness would grow worse but it couldn’t be helped. There were too many ill people who continued to need her. She worried that if she didn’t get the illness under control it would infect the entire village. She had worked endlessly, and prayed that she would soon see good results.
Now and then, when she could, she caught a wink of sleep. In the three days she had been there, she had managed only a few hours. Artair had made certain that she ate, bringing her food when she hadn’t even realized she was hungry.
His attentiveness had caught the attention of the village women, and many remarked to her how considerate and patient her husband was. They were right. Artair was patient. He didn’t grow angry with her or make demands. He would reason with her and of course he would make sense and she would do as he suggested.
She had realized soon enough what a good man he was, but it startled her to realize the full depth of his genuine character. And she actually felt a sense of luck that he should be the one to rescue her, though perhaps fate had something to do with that. Or could it have been love that brought Artair to her?
What most fascinated her about him was the way he controlled his passion. It sparked in his eyes now and again, though he never let it flare. And she felt it in his touch, especially when he held her and caressed her back. He was careful where he touched, never going beyond the proper boundaries. She reminded herself that they had only met and she shouldn’t expect more And yet?