WinterofThorns Read Free Page A

removed.”
    Ah, he
thought. That was why he hurt so badly. It wasn’t just the blade that had
lanced his side. The gods-be-damned thing had done some damage.
    “No need for you to worry,” she continued.
“You will be up in a day or two.”
    He sighed heavily. Tried to lift his hand
and didn’t have the strength. He closed his eyes against the wave of nausea
that rippled up his throat because he’d dared move.
    “Do you want to go back to sleep?” she
asked.
    “No,” he said. “It just hurts.”
    “Oh,” she said. “I have something that will
help.”
    He wedged his eyes open and tracked her
across the room. She went to a cabinet, opened it and took something from a
shelf. Closing the cabinet securely, she came back with a vac-syringe.
    “Healer Cronin showed me how to administer
the injection. He filled the vac-syringe before he went down to break his
fast.” She titled her head slightly to the right. “Would you like me to give
this to you?”
    He wanted to say no but the pain was too
intense. “Aye.”
    As gently as a leaf floating from a limb on
a soft summer’s breeze, she cupped his chin and eased his head to the side.
With firm yet tender strength, she put the nozzle of the vac-syringe to his
carotid artery and sent the burning drug into his neck. He tried not to flinch
but the fire racing through his blood felt like a cautery had been laid to his
flesh.
    “I know it hurts,” she said, putting down
the vac-syringe then placing her fingertips over the injection site. She softly
massaged his flesh in tiny circles. “I’ve had more than my share of triso injections.”
    He wondered why she would need the
heavy-duty painkiller and wanted to ask but the potent drug suddenly grabbed
him in its numbing fist. Through a soft haze, he stared up at her lovely face
and tried to smile at her though he didn’t think his facial muscles were
complying. Instead, he locked his attention on her and kept it there as the
waves of tingling relief began drifting through his mind.
    Her hair was in an intricate braid that
hung all the way to her shapely hips. The color was an unusual shade of deep,
rich burgundy that contrasted beautifully with her pale-gray eyes. Her eyebrows
were perfectly arched over those vibrant, smiling eyes and she had the longest
lashes of any woman he’d ever seen. A pert little nose, high cheekbones and the
sweetest pair of pale-rose lips completed a face that was as mesmerizing as it
was beautiful. Though she was short—probably no taller than five foot four—she had
the buxomness of a much larger woman. He knew the breasts that were hidden by
the bodice of her dark-gray gown would be more than a handful for any man. Idly
he wondered if her nipples and areolas were the same striking color as her
lips. His gaze drifting downward, he liked the tiny indention of her waist that
flared into a pair of very curvaceous hips and knew her legs would be as
slender and shapely as her arms. Taken as a whole, the woman was breathtakingly
gorgeous and to add to the physical side of her was that angelic voice that
soothed even as it enticed.
    “Better?” she asked and he drew in a slow
breath as she put the back of her hand to his forehead. Though he knew she was
testing his fever, he wanted to pretend she was touching him as a man and not
the patient he was.
    “Aye,” he whispered.
    “You are not quite so hot to the touch,”
she said.
    Touch me below the belt then say that, he thought. Between his thighs he was aflame
and hard as forged steel. Thankfully her gaze was on his face and not where the
sheet that covered him was tented.
    “Try to sleep,” she said. “Rest is what you
need right now.”
    Rest wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted the
angel hovering over him with her gentle smile and her soft hands. He wanted her
so badly he ached to the marrow of his bones.
    “Stay with me,” he asked hoarsely.
    She smiled. “Always, milord,” she replied
and laid her hand on his bare shoulder. Where