Promise Me

Chapter Twenty-Two

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Boromir turned his head to peer at her over his right shoulder. "Not at all, love. I'm fine. You need not fuss over me, you know. I assure you, I'm fine."

"I know, but it's been a rough day for you." Gabriella shifted her position, which was firmly seated on his backside, and smiled as she got more comfortable to resume the back rub she'd offered him. "And, I don't wish to cause you any more pain at all. So you'll tell me if I grow too heavy, won't you?"

"You're fine, Gabby. I promise."

"Good." She bit back a sigh at the sight of his bare back. Rain pattered softly against the windowpanes. The bed was a bit of a mess, with the sheet and quilts untucked and half hanging onto the floor, and was thoroughly rumpled besides, and a single candle burned on her bedside table to cast dancing shadows along the walls around them. The flickering golden light highlighted the swells of muscle along his back, across his shoulders, burnishing his skin ivory. He bore several scars across that broad plane as well. Most looked as if they'd come from blades—raised long and thin white lines stretching across this way or that, white with age.

She leaned forward, her hands coming to rest along the thick muscle across his shoulders, and he let out a soft groan of appreciation as she kneaded those bands, his sigh almost lusty as he whispered, "Oh, that feels heavenly..."

"It's supposed to."

"It does."

His head still turned to the right, all she could see was that side of his face and when his eye closed, she smiled. His was such a fascinating profile—the sharp definition of his jawline, the prominence of his nose, the ridge of his brows—she wished she could draw, for she would love to capture the sheer masculine beauty of his face.

His eye opened then and his lips curved upward in a grin. "That side of my face grows hot, love. Why do you stare?"

"Because you steal the breath from my lungs, Boromir, and you have since we first met."

That grin grew into a full, if sleepy, smile. "You had a soft spot for boys with big noses, then?"

"Your nose is just fine the way it is, you know. And I doubt anyone would argue that with me." She gave the thick band of muscle beneath her fingers a gentle squeeze. "I love your face. It's perfect."

"It's far from perfect and you know it."

"Stop. It's perfect and I love it."

His eye closed again and with a low sigh, he seemed to sink more deeply into the mattress. "That feels wonderful, you know. Thank you."

"You've had a long day," she told him, resuming her kneading. "And I hope I did not overstep earlier, at the funeral."

"Overstep?" His eye opened again. "How so?"

"Well..." she shrugged, digging her thumbs into a knot in his left shoulder, "I stood with you and Faramir, as if I was part of your family. As Cadell pointed out."

"Ask me if I care what that fool thinks. You're going to be my wife, Gabby. I care not if anyone was troubled with you being there because we've not made us official yet." He sucked in a sharp breath as she continued trying to massage out the knot in his shoulder. "Do take care, love. That hurts a bit."

"Oh," she stilled her hands and bent to sweep a light kiss where she'd just been kneading, "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize I was rubbing so hard."

"It's fine, just a bit tender, is all."

"Even so."

"No, there is no need to apologize." He let out a soft groan as she stretched out and came flush against him. "Oh, this is even nicer."