Falling For You (Love In All Seasons #2) - Frankie Love Page 0,11

have stayed.

Well, of course, I should have stayed, now that I see what it has cost us both.

Then I think of my poor father, wondering what he would think of his daughter being with a Lachlan.

It won’t do.

But neither will this man freezing on my watch. This man who whispered not-so-sweet nothings in my ear as we made love all through the night. This man who opened me up in more ways than one.

This man I cannot lose.

So, I kiss him—angry as I am with who he is—I can’t leave him for dead.

And he said my mouth was like life-giving nectar. A sweet savior, were his exact words last night—so I kiss him.

Knowing this can’t be our last.

I press my mouth against his, begging him to respond. I press my tongue past his lips and urge him to stir awake, under my touch.

His mouth—even unconscious—is a force to be reckoned with. It is more than I imagined a man’s mouth could be. And he may have said my kiss was a savior—but his kiss is a delicious treat.

Having it once can never be enough. I need more.

I need him.

My kiss awakens him and he opens his eyes. Those soulful eyes soothe my worst fears—he is alive.

I brush strands of hair from his face, looking at him with fervently.

“Stay awake,” I plead.

He nods, ever so softly, and I know he will make it. It’s like he looks at me and there’s no way he wouldn’t survive.

He is a beast, a mountain man, and he won’t let a few wolves take him down.

He pulls up, wincing as he moves, and I wrap my arm around his waist, wishing I was more than a shoulder to lean on. Wishing, in that moment, that I was his everything.

A selfish thought, considering I ran from him, pushed him away. I can’t in good faith hope for such a thing.

Still, I can’t lie to myself about what my heart feels.

And whatever it is I feel for Ronan, it is more than lust. It is something that is both more raw and more real than simple longing.

It’s something I am scared to name.

Something that pulses inside me, as I pray with all my might, for him to make it into the house safely.

----

I still don’t know how I do it.

He keeps coming in and out of lucidity as I dress his wounds. I give him a sleep aid when I finally manage to get him in bed which helps immensely.

Ronan sleeps for most of the day. There is no way to get him medical help in these weather conditions, and thankfully after living on a secluded mountain my entire life I have basic first aid skills. Enough accidents have happened over the years, that it is second nature for most of us in Hollow’s End to know how to bandage a wound. And thankfully Ronan didn’t break anything.

Now, I rewrap the bandages on his lower leg and forearm, wincing as I do, thinking it must hurt so much and thanking whoever is listening, that he is alive at all.

His dreams are tormented. He is writhing as he sleeps. I build a fire in his room, knowing how important it is he doesn’t catch a cold.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he cries out, and I press a hand against his cheek, not wanting him to be haunted. Or his dreams to turn to nightmares.

“I would have come sooner,” he whispers in his sleep, and I run a cold rag over his forehead, trying to read between the lines, knowing the knot of agony I saw in his eyes last night is also buried deep in his heart.

How I wish I knew how to unravel it.

How I wish he wasn’t the man I should despise.

How I wish he were mine.

Then he calls my name out in his sleep and my heart skips a beat. My body thrums with desire, even on his sickbed, my core wakes for this untamed man.

This man who calls for me.

My thoughts force me to sit up straight, set the washcloth aside now that I know he is breathing normally, and leave his bedside. I know the longer I sit next to him, the more attached I will grow and I know that it isn’t fair to fall for a man I can’t have.

Shouldn’t have.

I leave the room, rushing down the corridor, trying to gather my thoughts and trying to steady my heart.

I open a door at the end of the hall, and swing myself