“You seem surprised.”
“I suppose I am,” Zia admitted.
“Why?”
“We are different, Artair and I.”
Addie smiled. “Not so much.”
Zia looked at her, dazed. Artair and she were like night and day, yet Addie was suggesting that they weren’t.
Addie stopped before they reached the hall. “One more thing. I want to know the truth about Ronan.”
Zia had been expecting her to ask about her son. However, she wasn’t sure how to answer.
“I am confident that my son one day will return home and with what you have told the family, I am sure of it. So tell me the truth. Tell me why he has yet to return when it appears he’s free to do so.”
Zia took hold of her hand. “There are times when it is best that a question is not answered.”
Tears pooled in Addie’s eyes and she looked ready to argue.
“Please,” Zia begged. “I know how difficult this must be, but let it be for now. You will have your answers soon enough.”
Addie stuck her chin up. “Cavan is waiting.”
“I envy you your strength,” Zia said softly.
“And I thank you for looking after Ronan long after he left your care.”
They entered the great hall, and Zia immediately informed Cavan that Honora wished to speak with him. She hoped to talk with Artair; about what, she wasn’t sure, she simply wanted time with him, even if it were just a walk and they didn’t speak a word. She just felt the need to be with him, hold his hand, touch him, kiss him, or have him there beside her, and his intense glance told her he felt the same.
She was walking toward him when a woman entered the hall asking for the healer. Zia stopped, and for a moment wished she wasn’t a healer. She could see that Artair felt the same way.
Surprisingly, it was Artair who made the first move, taking her arm and walking with her out of the hall. He was letting her know that he was there beside her and would support her in whatever she did, and his consideration touched her heart and made her want him all the more.
How could a practical man have captured her heart?
Perhaps there was something she could learn from him? Or could Addie be right? Could she and Artair be more alike than she thought?
The possibility intrigued her but didn’t have time to gain substance since she was soon busy tending a wounded warrior who had developed a fever. A mere glance at the man told her that her hoped-for time with Artair might not materialize.
She looked to Artair with disappointment.
He smiled softly and rolled up his sleeves. “Tell me what to do to help.”
Chapter 24
Artair and Zia stumbled into the room together, exhausted but charged with passion. It had happened innocently enough, with a brief kiss on their walk to the keep. It sparked a passion that they could not ignore, nor did they want to. Soon their steps were hurried, their hands reached out to touch, and they were kissing, their lips simply not wishing to part.
Clothes were nearly ripped off as they tumbled on the bed. Their need was too great to linger in play. Their passion-charged bodies immediately joined in a frenzied union . It was as if he couldn’t drive deep enough inside her, or that she couldn’t have him deep enough inside her. It was almost as if they wished to blend as one losing themselves in each other until there was no difference between them.
Their naked bodies were soon drenched with sweat, their breathing more labored than ever before and still they would not relinquish the connection between them that spiraled on forever.
They were one. With each forceful climax Zia grew closer and more deeply in love with Artair and though he never voiced the same, she felt it, for certainly love could be the only driving force that could bring them to the brink of insanity and make it feel so right.
They lay side by side in the aftermath of their lovemaking, their bodies drenched in sweat and their breathing barely controllable. Their fingertips touched as if they refused to relinquish the connection that had made them feel so utterly whole, so beautifully complete.
Zia wished to express how she felt but could not find the strength or breath to do so, and while she sensed he felt the same, he also remained silent.
She suddenly felt like crying. How could this matter ever be settled between them when she would cry out her love for him in front of the whole village, and he would wait for a reasonable time to admit his own feelings?
Her disturbing thought did not distance her from him, far be it. It made her grasp hold of his hand locking her fingers with his as if letting him know she had no intentions of ever letting him go.
His grasp was just as tight, letting her know the same.
The problem was where did they go from here?