Alaric sucked some of the liquid into his mouth and savored the soothing warmth as it slipped down his throat. More than the comfort of the broth, Keeley’s tender regard brushed over his senses and soothed the incessant ache at his side.

Her knuckles grazed his lips as she maneuvered to get closer to him. She knelt up and leaned over, giving him an eyeful of her cleavage. The delectable mounds peeked above the neckline of her smock, and his gaze was riveted. He held his breath, waiting to see if the dress would move lower.

He could fair taste her already, and it was all he could do not to lean in and nuzzle the sweet, soft flesh.

She palmed his chin and lifted until his gaze met hers again. Brown. Rich brown pools with tiny flecks of gold and green. Thick lashes fringed her eyes, making them larger and more exotic looking.

“Drink,” she directed.

He allowed her complete control. Whatever she dictated, he obeyed. She stroked his cheek as she tilted the trencher to allow him more of the broth. With each brush of her flesh against his, his body stirred and tightened uncomfortably. He wouldn’t have thought his cock would possibly react when he was in so much pain, but he strained the limits of his trews. The ache was becoming intolerable and as uncomfortable as the pain in his side.

Before he realized it, he’d drained the trencher of the broth and Keeley slowly pulled it away, and with it her palm.

His protest bubbled on his lips and escaped in a throaty growl.

“Do you want more?” she asked huskily.

“Aye,” he whispered.

“I’ll call for more.”

“Nay.”

“Nay?”

“ ’Tis not what I want.”

Her eyes glowed and she stared at him, her gaze stroking over his face. “What do you want, warrior?”

He reached down and threaded his fingers through hers. He raised her hand and cradled his cheek in her palm. He rubbed back and forth until the pleasure was nearly too much to bear.

“I want you near me.”

“I’ve already said I won’t leave,” she chided softly.

The door opened again, and Alaric cursed when Keeley all but leapt from his arms. She straightened her skirts and busied herself with putting the trencher and goblet away while Gannon handed Alaric the tin of water.

He drank thirstily, wanting Gannon to be gone as quickly as possible. When he had drained the tin, he thrust it back at Gannon. “Be sure we aren’t disturbed. Keeley must rest.”

“Me?”

Keeley’s mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed. “If I’m not mistaken, ’tis you who have suffered serious injury.”

Alaric nodded. “Aye, and you’ve gone without rest ever since.”