Read Online When Strangers Marry by Lisa Kleypas - Free Book Online Page B

him.”
    “I can’t….”
    The hard rim of a cup pressed against her lips, and she recoiled from a bitter taste. A steely arm behind her shoulders would not let her retreat.
    “No,” she choked, her head falling back against an unyielding shoulder.
    “Don’t fight me, petite. Drink it all. Good girl…just a little more.” She opened her mouth with a gasp, obeying the gentle prompting.
    She saw the dark shape of a man moving through a thick mist. He would help her…he must. Frantically she chased after him, ran and ran until her way was blocked by a tall iron gate. She grasped the bars and shook them violently. “Wait! Let me in! Wait….”
    The wolf was behind her. She could feel him drawing near. His low snarl pierced the misty night. Terrified, she tugged at the gate, but it would not open. Powerful jaws closed around her neck.
    “Hush. Be still, you must rest.”
    “Don’t let him hurt me….”
    “You’re safe in my arms, ma chère. Nothing will hurt you.”
    A wet cloth stroked over her back, legs, neck, arms. Again the cup was raised to her mouth. “Once more,” came a quiet command. “Once more.”
    She submitted while the wolf circled around her stealthily. He snatched her up greedily in his jaw,dragging her into the shadows while she cried in terror for him to stop…but he would not let her go…he would never let her go….
     
    Lysette emerged from layers of darkness, struggling upward until she broke through the surface of a deep, dreamless sleep. She was lying on her stomach in a dimly lit room, an amber glow coming from a lamp in the corner. Blinking, she shifted toward the light and rested her cheek on the mattress. Her body and head and arms were as heavy as if they had been weighted with bags of sand. Long, cooling strokes moved over her back, and she made a faint sound of gratitude.
    A gentle hand descended to the side of her face, testing the temperature of her skin. “You’re much better now,” came a familiar voice. “The fever has broken, thank God.”
    Lysette’s eyes flew open in astonishment as she recognized the voice. “Monsieur Vallerand?” she asked groggily. “Oh, no. It’s you. ”
    Amusement curled through his quiet voice. “I’m afraid so, petite. ”
    “But…but…” She floundered into aghast silence. Who had let him into her sickroom? Surely he had not taken care of her while she was ill. Fragments of memory floated through her tired brain…the coaxing voice, the strong arms, the gentle hands that had tended to her most intimate needs. She could not believe it.
    It dawned on her that she was naked in bed, with a light sheet draped low over her hips, her backcompletely exposed. It was too much to comprehend…she couldn’t think of how to react.
    “I’m not dressed,” she said plaintively.
    Vallerand leaned over her. His shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, the neck open to reveal the startling wealth of black curls on his chest. His tanned face was unshaven, his jaw covered with heavy bristle, and his hair was disheveled. The dark eyes were undercut with deep shadows.
    Carefully he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I’m sorry,” he said, although he didn’t sound all that apologetic. “It was easier to take care of you this way.”
    She stiffened at the touch of his finger on the hot curve of her ear.
    “Relax,” he murmured. “I’m hardly going to molest a woman in your condition.” He paused before adding, straight-faced, “I’ll wait until you’re better.”
    Despite Lysette’s consternation, a gurgle of amusement escaped her. “How long have I been ill?” she asked thickly.
    “Almost three weeks.”
    “Oh, mon Dieu ,” she said, her mouth going dry. She lurched to her side, fumbling with the sheets, her entire body turning crimson as she realized her breasts were exposed.
    Vallerand didn’t seem to notice the display as he helped her to turn over. Deftly he pulled the sheet over her chest and tucked it beneath her arms.