“My wound is good. I am just tired,” she said.
“Show it to me or I will look myself,” he ordered and stepped toward her.
Her hand quickly went to her side pulling his shirt she wore up and moving her tunic out of the way while keeping herself discreetly covered elsewhere.
He hunched down beside the bed and reached out to tenderly probe the area around the seared wound.
“It is still tender,” he said, seeing her eyes wince.
“The outside heals well but the inside needs a bit more time,” she said.
He eased his shirt down over her hip, then proceeded to remove her boots and place both her feet on the bed. He pulled a blanket up over her and tucked it around her.
“Sleep will help heal,” he said, and his hand went to her face and brushed the few stray strands of hair off her cheek, then rested his hand there while he ran his thumb gently over her lips.
It felt like an intimate kiss and a tingle shot through Bliss, and she shuddered.
“Soon,” he whispered. “Soon I will make you do more than shudder at my touch.”
Her tears started as soon as the door closed behind him. She realized what disturbed her about the situation. It touched her heart the way he tended her as if he truly cared. Then there was his touch and his kiss. She had known neither from a man and it had surprised her that she found both pleasurable and from the cursed lord. She even, to her great surprise, favored sleeping naked in his arms as well as the warmth they shared wrapped snugly together.
He might think himself an unkind man but—in his own rough way—he had shown her kindness and what had she shown him—deceit.
This task had suddenly become far more difficult in a way she had never expected. Never did she think she would find herself caring for the cursed lord.
Rannick inhaled a deep breath after stepping outside. What was it about Bliss that so enticed him? His three wives had been appealing enough, his first wife the most attractive. Bliss’s features were plain and yet he saw a beauty in her that he had never seen in any other woman.
He blamed her—unfairly—for disturbing his solitude and showing him what he had missed… the comforting companionship of a willing and compassionate woman.
He shook his head and returned to sharpening his daggers, annoyed at the lie he attempted to tell himself. He had never truly had the intimate companionship of a woman that he shared with Bliss, and they had not even coupled yet.
He and his first and second wife had never shared a bed nightly, nor had either woman ever slept naked in his arms or were bold enough to touch his shaft. And never did either of them stand naked in front of him. He had barely seen either throughout the day and once his first wife got with child, she had explained nervously that he need not make any more nightly visits to her bed until such a time he wished another child. He had not argued or demanded she see to her wifely duties, since that was all they ever were to her—duties.
Few willing women wanted to couple with the cursed lord, so he had turned to women who coupled for coins. Was it any different with Bliss? He provided her with food and shelter and in return she warmed his bed and would couple with him willingly.
He was an evil bastard for putting her in such a situation. With no place for her to winter, what else had he expected her to do? She had little choice but to remain with him.
“It was a fair bargain,” he said to himself. She could have said no. Why hadn’t she? Why take a chance of the curse touching her?
Those thoughts had disturbed him since she first agreed to his proposition. But she had explained it away and he had believed her. He wanted her to remain there with him. He wanted to feel her naked and snug in his arms each night, their bodies warming each other. He wanted to wake to her gentle smile she did not even realize she wore in the morning when she woke. And he wanted to lose himself deep inside her hoping that somehow, she could heal the endless pain that pounded at his heart.
He cursed himself. “Selfish bastard.”
He should send her on her way, far away from him and the misery he would surely bring upon her and yet he didn’t want to let her go. The thought of her leaving, not having her there in his bed, in his arms, feeling her gentle and inquisitive touch filled him with intense pain.
He needed her, though he had to be sure he did not care for her, have any feelings at all for her or she would suffer for it.