Keeley made a sound of alarm and then suddenly she was there. Surrounding him with her arms and her softness. Some of the vicious pain subsided and he drew in steadying breaths as he leaned into her.

She jerked several pillows behind him, then eased him back until he was propped against the wall. “Slowly, warrior. I know it hurts.”

He lay there panting, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Nausea welled in his belly and it was all he could do not to lean over and heave. Jesu, but that little cut in his side hurt like the devil.

He started to protest when she moved away, but before he could open his mouth, she was back, trencher and ale in hand. She gave him the goblet and then slid onto the bed beside him, her curvy body nestling against his side.

“Sip slowly until your stomach has settled,” she murmured.

How she knew he was on the verge of retching his guts up he didn’t know, but he made sure to follow her advice and took wary sips of the strong brew.

After a few swallows, he grimaced and set the goblet away. “I think you had the right of it, Keeley. I think plain water would be easier on my stomach. ’Tis the truth the ale seems to sour it all the more.”

“Here,” she said in a gentle voice. “Sip at the broth from the trencher. See if that does the trick. I’ll go down and fetch some water for you in a moment.”

“Nay, don’t move.” He threw back his head and bellowed Gannon’s name.

Keeley jumped beside him and drew in her breath.

“Sorry, lass,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

They had only a moment to wait before the door burst open and Gannon stuck his head in. Keeley shot him a bemused look and Alaric chuckled.

“ ’Tis his duty to remain outside my chamber in case I have need of anything. I knew he wouldn’t be far.”

“Was this merely a test?” Gannon grumbled.

“Nay, I require water and didn’t want Keeley to have to fetch it herself. She’s tired and has galloped up the stairs more than enough already.”

“I’ll return in a moment,” Gannon said as he withdrew.

“Think you that you can down some of the broth now? If you’re finished bellowing at your men?”

Alaric grinned at the sour note in her voice. “I might have need of you to help me. I’m feeling rather weak.”

Keeley rolled her eyes, but she turned into him, balancing the trencher in her palm as she guided it to his mouth. “Sip at it,” she directed. “Not too fast. Let it settle in your stomach before you take more.”

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.”

She closed her mouth and he smiled at the weary set to her eyes. She was fierce with regard to her duties, but she was also exhausted and she wasn’t going to further argue the need for her rest.

Her shoulders sagged and Alaric motioned for Gannon to come closer.

“Have a bath drawn for Keeley,” he murmured to his man. “You can have the tub brought up here and placed in the corner so she has privacy.”

Gannon raised one eyebrow but didn’t argue. He turned and left the chamber and Alaric settled back onto the bed, content to watch as Keeley puttered around the room doing this and that in a clear effort to avoid him.

When another knock sounded, Keeley frowned but went to answer. Alaric grinned when she backed away, eyes wide at the men who carted the large tub into the room. They were followed by a parade of women, each bearing a steaming bucket of water.

Keeley shot Alaric a frown. “You cannot wet your stitches.”

“ ’Tis not for me.”

Keeley’s brows drew together. “Who is it for then?”

“You.”

Her eyes widened and she glanced between where the water was being emptied into the tub and Alaric, as if she had no idea what to say. When she opened her mouth, he brought his finger to his lips in a motion to silence her.

She marched across the room and perched on the edge of his bed. “Alaric, I can’t bathe in here!”

“I won’t look,” he said innocently.

She glanced longingly at the tub. Steam rose as the last of the water was poured in.

“If you don’t hurry, the water will grow too cool,” he said.

Gannon came in then with a tall wooden barrier that folded in the middle. “I’ve borrowed Mairin’s privacy board,” he said to Keeley.

Alaric shot him a glare, but Gannon made certain not to meet his gaze.

“Privacy board?” Keeley stared at the contraption in puzzlement.

“Aye, she had it built to shield her tub so she could bathe in private,” Gannon explained.

Keeley smiled in delight as it was set up and completely obscured the view of the tub. “It’s perfect!”

Gannon returned her smile and then extended a bundle of clothing toward her. “Mairin sent you a new dress to change into. She said to tell you that on the morrow the ladies will have more to give you.”

Warmth suffused Keeley’s eyes and cheeks. “Thank Mairin and the other women for me,” she said softly.

Gannon nodded and turned to follow the women out, shutting the door behind him.

Keeley fingered the material of the dress, a wistful expression on her face. Then she glanced up at Alaric. “I’ll hurry.”

Alaric shook his head. “No need. Take as long as you like. I’m feeling much better after taking sustenance. I’m just going to lie back and get comfortable.”

He broke into a cold sweat when Keely ducked behind the screen and moments later her dress flew over the top, hanging on the edge.

She was naked behind that piece of wood. He cursed Gannon for his interference because now he was stuck in bed imagining long slender legs, perfect breasts, and curvy hips shielding curls that were likely as dark as her hair.

He closed his eyes when he heard the splash of water. Her sigh of contentment tightened his scrotum and his cock strained relentlessly upward, so hard and erect that he thought he might split his flesh.

He reached down with his left hand, shoving impatiently at his laces. His fingers bumped into his rigid flesh and he circled the base, gripping tight. Up and down he worked, nearly groaning aloud at the wicked tightness.

She made little humming noises, and he closed his eyes as he imagined her picking up one leg at a time and running a washing cloth down the length and back up again.

Jesu. He couldn’t finish this.

The hell he couldn’t. He’d take her leftover bath water. He needed to scrub the blood from his side anyway. She’d done an excellent job of keeping him clean. Even his hair. He remembered every minute of her washing his hair. Never before had a woman tended him in such an intimate manner.

He’d give anything to be able to slip behind her and return the favor. He’d wash every inch of her delectable body and run his fingers through her silken strands.

He exerted firmer pressure around his shaft, rolling the foreskin over the head, pressing and then sliding down again. His breaths came rapidly. He closed his eyes and imagined her on her knees in front of him, her lips parted to accept him.

His hands delving into her hair, holding her tight as he guided his cock into the velvet heat of her mouth. Sinking deep. Back and forth, her tongue rubbing erotically over the crown.