“She is brave.” Sednar fell into step beside him. “To leave the man who hurt her.”
“Yes.” She was brave and stubborn and the most precious creature he’d ever laid eyes on. He would stop at nothing to protect her and would thank the gods for the rest of his days if she chose to stay. He barely knew her and already she was a song in his blood, in his soul. What would it be like in three days if she left?
He tightened his hold on her as he went through the massive oak and metal door and into the keep. Not pausing, he started up the stairs, carrying her to his room.
Thankfully, Sednar didn’t object. His brother paused long enough to bellow a few orders before pounding up the stairs behind him. Sednar was only two steps behind by the time Radnor shouldered the door open and carried Roxanne into his room. He set her gently on the bed and had to force himself to release her.
“The tapestry brought her?” Radnor could hear the disbelief in his brother’s voice.
“That’s what she said.” He could see the bump on her temple and the beginnings of bruises on her arms. Was she injured elsewhere? He hesitated briefly before reaching for the fastener on her tunic. It was a strange metal contraption, but it only took him a moment to figure out how to work it.
“Incredible,” Sednar whispered as the metal teeth in the front of her garment parted to expose the woman beneath.
Radnor’s fingers shook as a swatch of white, smooth skin was exposed. Lust was riding him hard. He wanted to bury his face in the curve of her neck and simply breathe in her essence. He wanted to lie on his back and pull her on top of him, feeling every soft curve conform to the hard planes of his body.
His cock pulsed, molding its hard length against the front of his pants. He yearned to bury his shaft in the welcoming moist heat of her pussy, to feel her close around him in the most intimate of caresses.
He made a low rumbling noise in his chest as he pushed the colorful material aside, revealing plump, firm breasts encased in a few skimpy pieces of cloth. Radnor ran his finger down the edge of the unusual garment, following the curve of her breasts.
His heart raced, like the pounding of Xander’s hooves on the hard-packed ground when he was allowed to run free. Roxanne moaned, releasing him from the erotic spell that had ensnared him. She was hurt and he had to take care of her. That came before all else.
Gently pushing his arm behind her back, he lifted her into a sitting position and tugged at the short sleeves of her tunic or dress or whatever it was she was wearing.
Sednar helped and, between the two of them, they quickly had it removed. Sednar brought the garment to his nose and inhaled. Radnor couldn’t blame him. Roxanne’s scent was intoxicating.
With her still in a seated position, Radnor examined the contraption binding her breasts. A sense of satisfaction filled him when he discovered two hooks at the back. He quickly released them and the cloth eased away from her body. He carefully laid her back on the bed and pulled the fragile piece of clothing over her arms and away from her body.
Beside him, Sednar inhaled deeply. Radnor knew exactly what his brother was feeling. It was like being kicked in the teeth by a fractious horse. He shook his head to try to clear it while he stared at the bounty laid out before him.
Her breasts were magnificent. Plump and firm and tipped with rosy nipples puckered into tight buds. His fingers itched to touch them, to shape them with his palms before leaning down and capturing one with his mouth.
Another scrap of fabric wrapped around her hips and covered her sex. It was almost transparent, barely a barrier at all. He could snap the thin band with his hands, tug away the remains and she would be totally naked. Or he could slide his fingers beneath the covering and find the soft, slick folds beneath. His cock flexed in agreement. His fingers curled into fists to keep from reaching out to touch her. It wouldn’t be right to do that. But it would be oh so easy.
Goosebumps rose on her arms and legs. Radnor swore and grabbed the covers, tossing them over her almost naked form. Here he was ogling her, imagining stroking her intimately, when she was injured and cold.
Maybe he was a monster. No decent man would do that.
“Where is the healer?” he barked.
Sednar raised his eyebrow in question. Radnor knew his tone was argumentative and brusque. He didn’t care. Roxanne had all his emotions in an uproar. Not to mention his body.
A timid knock sounded on the door. Not waiting for his brother to answer it, Radnor strode over and yanked open the portal. An elderly woman stood there, head down. Waiting.
He tried to remember her name but couldn’t. “On the bed.” He motioned forward and the woman scuttled past. Radnor bit back a scathing comment. He was tired of everyone who lived in the keep fearing him when he’d personally never hurt any of them. He was sick to death of paying for the crimes of his older brothers.
Locking his jaw against the pain, he returned to the side of the bed. Darrina. That was the woman’s name. “Can you help her, Darrina?” The elderly woman jumped when he said her name, her gaze dropping to the floor, as if to avoid his angry glare. “I’m not a healer proper, my lord. But I can try.”
“Do the best you can,” Sednar told her.
Darrina nodded and both brothers stood back and watched as she examined the wound on Roxanne’s head.
Another knock came on the door. Radnor went to open it. A boy came into the room carrying a bowl of hot water. After that, there was a steady stream of servants carrying clothes and food and herbs.
Sednar eventually sat at the table and helped himself to some ale and a bowl of thick stew. Radnor couldn’t eat, couldn’t rest. Not until he knew the extent of Roxanne’s injuries. He watched as the elderly woman examined Roxanne’s limbs. She muttered under her breath as she worked and it took every ounce of Radnor’s patience not to demand answers.
Finally, after what seemed like days rather than minutes, Darrina tugged the covers back up around Roxanne’s shoulders. Her limbs had been washed and a healing salve had been applied to her bruises. Roxanne seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
“Well?” Radnor demanded.
Darrina shrugged. “The bump on her head is the worst of it. Not serious enough for stitches, but it was still quite a crack. Let her rest for now. Wake her every hour or so to make certain she doesn’t fall into a sleep from which she never wakes.”
“Is that possible?” Sednar demanded as he jumped up from the table and strode to the side of the bed.
Again the elderly woman shrugged. “Who knows? It happens. If she awakes each time then she should be fine. If not, it is up to the gods.” Gathering her healing salves, Darrina shuffled off. “I’ll send someone back to clear away the mess.” With that, she was gone.
Radnor and Sednar were alone in the room with Roxanne. Her face was still pale, but she seemed to be breathing with no problem. Radnor couldn’t even contemplate the idea that she might not wake up.
Unable to wait, he bent down and laid his hand on her shoulder, lightly shaking it.
“Roxanne?”
“What are you doing?” Sednar asked. “Darrina just got her settled.” Radnor ignored his brother, raising his voice slightly. “Wake up, Roxanne.” She mumbled and her eyelids fluttered open and then closed again. “Go away. I’m sleeping.” She turned over onto her side and snuggled beneath the covers.
He started to shake her again. Sednar placed his hand on Radnor’s arm stopping him. “She woke and talked. That’s enough for now. Sleep will help her heal. When she wakes, we will sort all this out.” Sednar’s features hardened. “Tell me everything.”
Knowing he owed his brother that much, Radnor motioned toward the table. He turned his chair so he could keep an eye on Roxanne as she slept. Sednar sat and poured two goblets of ale, handing one of them to Radnor.