Ewan and Caelen McCabe stood in her doorway and they didn’t look any happier to be there than she was at their presence.
“Alaric is calling for his angel,” Caelen said in disgust.
Keeley blinked and then let her gaze rest on Ewan. “You know as well as I that I’ll be the demon in the next breath.”
Ewan sighed. “He is in a state of supreme agitation. I’m worried he’ll rip his stitches and the wound will bleed again. We must keep him quiet and allow him rest. The only way I see to do that is if … you’re with him.”
Keeley’s mouth dropped open. “What you’re suggesting isn’t proper at all. You may have abducted me without care, but I refuse to allow my reputation to become more tarnished than it already is. The last thing I need is your clan to think me a woman without morals.”
Ewan held up a placating hand. “My clan will say nothing. No one will know. I’ll make sure no one but myself or my wife is allowed inside Alaric’s chamber—or yours for that matter. I would not ask if it wasn’t important, Keeley. Right now I’ll do whatever it takes to calm my brother and ease his distress.”
Keeley propped herself up on one elbow and rubbed a weary hand over her face. “What I need is sleep. I haven’t slept since Alaric came to my cottage wounded. If I go to his chamber, can you make sure I am undisturbed?”
She knew annoyance was reflected in her tone, and at the moment, she just didn’t care. She’d do whatever it took for these people to leave her alone.
“In fact, what I’d really appreciate is for everyone to leave me alone to tend to Alaric. If I have need of something, I’ll call.”
Already Keeley was dreaming of several hours of uninterrupted sleep. If she had to agree to share Alaric’s chamber in order to achieve it, then that’s what she’d do.
The corner of Ewan’s mouth twitched. “Aye, Keeley. You’ll have your sleep. I’ll make sure you are undisturbed. We won’t come to see about Alaric’s progress until the afternoon. You have my word.”
Keeley threw off the covers and slung her legs over the bed, careful to keep as much of her tattered dress covering her as possible. She struggled to her feet, smoothing her snarled hair from her face.
“Let’s get on with it then,” she grumbled.
She trudged into Alaric’s chamber to find the covers twisted in a ball at his feet. His arm was thrown over his head and sweat beaded his brow. He moved his head from side to side, mumbling unintelligible things under his breath.
Sweat gleamed on his chest and on his side as well, and she could see the stress the stitching on his wound was undergoing.
Stifling her curse, she hurried to his side, her fingers probing the stitched cut.
He stilled immediately and his eyes opened, bleary with confusion. “Angel?”
“Aye, warrior, ’tis your angel come to soothe you. Tell me now, will you rest if I remain by your side?”
“Glad you’re here,” he croaked. “Not the same when you’re gone.”
She went soft from head to toe and leaned in closer, allowing his seeking hand to touch her arm.
“I won’t leave this time, warrior. I’ll stay with you.”
His arm curled around her, pulling her until she was forced down to his side. “I’ll not let you go this time,” he vowed.
Keeley refused to look at Alaric’s brothers. She had no desire to see the irritation or condemnation in Caelen’s eyes. She’d seen enough of that to last her a lifetime. If he had a single word to say to her after dragging her from her bed, she’d belt him right across the face and damn the consequences.
Luckily she heard no sound from that quarter. Only the soft shutting of the door alerted her to the fact that she and Alaric were alone.
She snuggled into his side and smoothed her hand over his taut belly. “Sleep now, warrior. Your angel will be ever close. This I swear.”
He made a sound of contentment and his body went slack, all the fight leaving his muscles. He squeezed his arm around her until not a single part of her wasn’t touching him in some way.
He went immediately to sleep, but despite Keeley’s overwhelming fatigue, she lay awake for a long time, savoring the sensation of lying in her warrior’s arms.
When she next opened her eyes, sunlight was straining around the furs covering the window. The fire had died down in the hearth and only a few glowing embers remained. Despite the chill that she knew was probably present in the room, she was bathed in warmth. So cozy and comfortable that she didn’t move a single muscle.
Alaric’s arm was still wound tightly around her waist and she was pressed up tight to his side, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder.
Her hand glided over his chest and finally up to rest against his cheek. To her delight, his skin was much cooler and not as dry as it had been over the past hours. Cool sweat shimmered on his forehead and she pried herself out of his arms to rise excitedly.
As she looked down at his face, she was surprised by how clear his eyes were. No haze of confusion darkened the light green orbs.
Then he smiled up at her and to her utter shock, he reached up and pulled her down on top of him.
“You’re mad!” she hissed as she struggled to move to his uninjured side. “You’re going to tear your stitches and I spent the better part of two hours setting them!”
“So my angel is real,” he murmured, not letting her wiggle out of his grasp.
“Your assessment of a demon was more accurate,” she gritted out.
He chuckled and then winced.