Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Ciara was fazed. It took every bit of her inner strength to keep all emotion off her face. She had no idea he would look like this. His rod jutted out from a thick nest of black hair. It quivered as if it had a life all its own. There was a tiny drop of dewiness at the very top. She wanted to touch it, to see if it was as soft as she imagined. She finished as fast as possible without circumventing any of his wounds. She stood as she flicked the quilts back over him with a dismissive glance.

“Would you like to eat? I have some stew that you should be able to handle.”

“Have you no shame or are you so used to looking at men in that state?”

She ground her jaw and took a deep breath to remain calm.

“I have no time for modesty. I have been taking care of you for the past two weeks, since I was merely concerned with keeping you alive. I did not mean to embarrass you. If you think you can handle me looking upon you, I will help you to dress in your pants.”

“No, I am sorry. Have I really been here for two weeks?” He readjusted the quilt over his lower body. “My name is Lucien St. Martin, Marquess of Heartstone. You can call me Saint. What is your name? And yes, I would like at least my pants.”

Men. Always trying to impress a woman. “Ciara.” She pronounced it kee-ar-ra with a slight rolling of the ‘r’. She turned her back on him and went to the stove to get him a bowl of soup. He needed to stay in bed for a bit yet and keeping his clothes from him seemed to be the best way.

“That’s it? Nothing else to your name?”

She settled herself back on the chair by his pallet and offered him the bowl. “Ciara Malika McKay. What about you, anything else to your name? Can you eat on your own or would you like some help? Eat first, clothes second.”

Regardless of the fact that he shook with exhaustion, he snapped, “Lucien Brenden Remington St. Martin. I can feed myself.” He took the bowl and set it on his lap, but the first spoonful he spilled most of on his chest. His face flamed with anger or embarrassment, maybe both.

Ciara said not one word, just rose and got a cloth to wipe his chest clean. She took the bowl and fed him little by little.

Once he’d eaten and drunk everything, she set it to the side. “Do you need to relieve yourself?”

“Help me up. I will go outside.”

“I don’t think so.” She rose and got a pot. It was placed on his lap and she said to him, “I will be back in a few minutes.” Ciara swung on her cloak, and flipped the hood up as she and her canine disappeared into the swirling snow.

Upon her return, she noticed how he almost knocked the pot over when he got back into bed, dressed in woolen pants her father had worn.

Not saying anything, she came and removed the pot and took it outside. She was gone for about fifteen minutes. When she returned, she carried more wood along with the pot, cleaned out.

Ciara set down the wood and hung her cloak. As she stoked the fire she turned to look at her ‘guest’, watching him fight exhaustion as he struggled to pull the heavy quilts up over him. When her hands were warm she walked over there, lifted the blankets and made sure he was tucked in.

When he would have said something she interrupted, “Stop fighting it. The more you rest, the sooner you will recover. Remember you were attacked by a bear. You will be up in no time. Rest now.”

“Will you stay and talk with me?”

“Aye. If you wish it. I will return.” She left to her room.

She had changed into dry buckskin breeches and fuzzy moccasin slippers. She sat in the large rocking chair by the fire as she absently stroked the head of her massive pet.

“Where did you get your dog?” As Lucien struggled to sit up she tensed, ready to jump up to assist if needed.

“Faolan is no dog. He is a wolf. I saved him from a trap and he has decided to stay with me.”

“Faolan, what does that mean? Why are you here? Why don’t you live in the town?”

“My business is my business, Wolf. Please do not ask me to speak of such things for I will not do so.”

“Wolf? Why do you call me that?”

“It suits you, like Faolan. You should rest. Lie back.” She liked his voice but that could prove to be problematic, she didn’t need to get involved in anything with this man.

“Why do you not come lie with me? You have before, for your scent was over the pillows.”

Without so much as a smile, she stood. “Of course they smell like me. This is my place and those are my blankets. I am sorry if they offend.”

“Are you saying that you were not sleeping with me?”

“I have my own bed. Call me if you need anything. Goodnight, Wolf.” She nodded her head and walked out of the room.

Ciara lay in her bed and trembled as she tried to get hold of herself. Having seen his aroused, naked body had shattered her composure and she was having a hard time getting it back. She thought of what he had said. ‘Skin the color of rich cream and hair like golden wheat.’

That in itself was enough to square her resolve. She just had to make sure he survived because it appeared someone waited for him. For a single selfish moment she wondered what it would be like to have a man such as him waiting for her. She fell asleep with that thought.

* * * *

A low growl woke her a few nights later. Awake in an instant, she had a knife in her hand even before her feet had hit the floor. A tall figure lurched unsteadily in front of the fire. Faolan had woken her but he stayed by her. Taking a deep breath, she put the knife down and slipped on her moccasins.

Ciara stood in the doorway and watched as he struggled to get strength back in his limbs. The fire cast a golden glow over his body that was healing fast. He would have scars, but he would survive. As she watched him in the firelight he pitched forward.

He muffled a curse as he hit the floor. Within seconds there was a pair of surprisingly strong arms around him lifting, yes lifting him up, helping him back to the bed.

Ciara laid him on the bed. “I have to make sure you didn’t open your wounds.” She did a quick and thorough exam before she covered him back up.

Anger at himself for being here, being injured, being so weak, all rushed to the surface and he grabbed her arm and squeezed.

“What? You aren’t going to tell me that I shouldn’t have been walking yet? I’m too weak? Why don’t you say something? Anything?”

He was shouting by this time and Faolan had risen to stand next to his mistress. The wolf did not even hackle but Lucien couldn’t mistake the menace as it rolled off him in waves.

Her calm, lilting voice broke through his fog. “If you value your life, remove your hand from my arm.” He realized it had been a huge mistake to touch her in anger with the wolf around.

“You are brave with the wolf to hide behind,” he sneered. He did release her arm.

“No harm done. What good would I do if I told you those things? Your body is weak, not your mind. I don’t need to tell you things like that. I couldn’t know what your body is capable of more than you could. You are a man. I figure you would like to be up and able to take care of yourself soon. You didn’t hurt yourself so there was no harm done.”

She didn’t even touch the fact that she had a wolf to defend her.

When she put it that way, he could find nothing to argue with. At least she had noticed he was a man. She spoke a word to Faolan and he went to lie down on the rug by the fire. It was a word he didn’t understand.

“What did you say to him?”

“Not important. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No. Thank you.” He reached up to touch her face, and when he did, she stiffened but her eyes stayed on his, clear and guileless. She was beautiful. Achingly so. He wanted to kiss those full lips. He wanted to run his tongue over them and nibble on them.

“I will see you in the morning, then.” She straightened and spoke one word to Faolan and he followed her into her room. She made no mention of his treatment to her and the fact that she was silent and not upset by his words or actions had a greater effect than if she had yelled at him for it.

Come morning, he was a bit stronger as he ate the breakfast she set before him. She was dressed as before in buckskins. When the meal was done he looked at her.

“How did I get here?” His memory was sketchy except for seeing the bear charge him.

“I brought you here.”

“How?”

“I carried you.” She took the dishes and washed them with water that had been heating on the stove.

Lucien snorted in disbelief. She was a female. “You mean you had someone help you carry me?”

“No. I carried you. There is no one usually on this mountain. You are far from Paradise Cove. It is dangerous for you to be out without a guide. Why was there no one with you?”

“I don’t need someone to babysit me. I am a marquess. If you must know, I was taking the stallion for a ride. Before that damn horse spooked because of the bear.” His temper rose with indignation and his voice was laden with scorn. He knew it was not fair to blame the horse for running but he had to blame someone or something and it sure wasn’t going to be himself.

The dish dropped and she spun on him, eyes flashing golden fire. “You! You were a fool. You alone are to blame. Not the horse, you. I know in town they told you not to go off the path. Bears are only one of the things you would have to worry about in this area. While it is not a battlefield, neither is it a path through your self-absorbed, pigheaded and conceited society of the haut ton. As for the stallion, I hope that no harm came to that splendid creature because of your arrogance and stupidity.”

Her entire body trembled. “Apparently you did and still do need someone to babysit you because if you did not, you would not have been one mountain over from where you started and I would not have had to carry you and nurse you back to health and…and now be stuck with you until spring.” She spun, dishes forgotten, ripped on her gloves and put on her cloak as she exited the cabin in a blaze of glory.

He sat there in stunned silence. There were few who would speak to him in that tone. Here all winter. This was news to him. How did she know about the ton?

Perhaps he had been a bit arrogant in his decision but surely she was exaggerating. Females always did so when they wanted men to feel sorry for them. Damn but she was spectacular in her rage and he knew that her responses to lovemaking would be just as passionate. To his lovemaking. He had a goal—he would seduce her. She was good-looking, all right she was stunning, and he had been a while without a woman, so it would work for them both. Satisfied that his life would be getting back on track, he smiled. He with deliberate purpose forgot her accusations.

Lucien waited for her to come back into the cabin. After thirty minutes he walked a bit then sat on the bed to regain his breath. When an hour had passed, he got worried. Still no sign of her so he struggled up again and stumbled to the window by the door and pushed aside the heavy curtain. As he cleared the frost away, he looked out.

His gaze took her in as she played tag with that wolf of hers. The snow still fell and it was about up to her knees. She smiled as the animal would pounce at her and knock her down. He watched her for about fifteen minutes before she turned and loaded herself up with some wood and headed toward the cabin.

He had just made it back on the bed before she came in the door. The silence was strained as she put more wood on the fire and removed her cloak and gloves.

Taking a breath, Ciara looked at him. “I must go out for a while. Would you like to have a bath?”

A bath? It would be wonderful. “Yes, I would like one. Where do you bathe?”

“I will bring in a tub and heat the water for you. If you are sure you can handle it yourself.”

His groin stirred at her words but as he looked at her face, he realized she was not being coy with her wording. Just straightforward. It was like she didn’t know how to flirt and that alone made the words she spoke all the more provocative.

“I will be fine. Besides,” he added, flashing a grin that was known to make women melt into his arms, “I have to get up and moving around or I will not get better at all.”

“Very well.” No blushes. No sighs. For all intents and purposes she was not affected by his grin at all. Lucien frowned to himself. This was going to make seduction even harder, but victory all the sweeter. The Black Marquess did not fail when it came to women. There was not one he couldn’t get into his bed.

Ciara dragged in a huge metal tub. She set water to boil on the fire while the tub warmed beside it, then left him alone for a while.

After a bit, she poured the water in, laid some soap and a drying cloth on a chair next to the tub. After, she walked over to him and took off his bandages. “I believe that they can stay uncovered now. Do you require any assistance?”

The devil in him made him want to say yes, but he needed to do this on his own. “No, I will manage.”

Ciara spun and went into her room and when she came back out she placed some shaving tools on the chair as well and, at his look, she added, “I did not know if you wished to shave.”

Nothing more was said until she was by the door. “There is a clean shirt and your pants are there as well. You may wish to keep wearing the wool ones since yours were ripped. The fire should be fine and there is stew on the stove. Will you be okay for the day?”

The day? Where is she going? “Where are you going?” The question came unbidden from his lips. “It is dangerous out there. You should stay here.”

“I have things to do. Will you be fine here?” She waited for his nod, then slipped out of the door, Faolan at her side.