Her Assassin's Heart - Book 2

Chapter 43

Warm sunlight bathed her face, but it was nothing compared to the warmth coming from him. Cassandra trailed a finger over the crisp, white bandages on Nickolas's chest, staring at him. She'd already memorized every tiny detail of his face a hundred times, but she did so again.

She laid beside him all night, holding his hand. In the dark hours of early morning, she'd fully realized just how good it felt to be held by him. In that moment, she'd known that everything she wanted, all that mattered to her right now was him.

She kept hearing those words, that confession, from the night before. Bliss. That was hardly the word to use in this instance, because it was so shallow compared to what she was actually feeling. She'd never felt so perfectly content.

If she was honest with herself, she had doubted his reciprocation of her feelings from the moment the words had spilled out of her lips. Yes, he was attracted to her, and yes, he had done everything in his power to look after her, but those two agonizing days had left her to ponder the fact that he would never come back simply because she had been too quick to say those three words.

But he'd said it. He'd told her he loved her. Now, there wasn't a single force in the world that could drag her from his side. She didn't care what the world thought of her. In their eyes, she would gladly be little more than a whore—it didn't matter. She was his. He was hers. No one else was involved in the equation.

Apart from the physician's appearance at noon to give Nickolas some medicine and spoon feed him some broth, when he roused halfway from his slumber, and to check on his progress, they had been mostly left alone. She'd been content to lie beside him while he slept. Some instinct within her told her to protect him while he couldn't take care of himself, so she held his hand and stayed there.

It must be nearing the middle of the afternoon, but she didn't take notice. She wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything she saw when she looked at him, but he needed to rest, and she wasn't going to disturb that. They had all the time in the world now, so she could wait.

"Hello, minx." Cassandra gasped at the sound of the voice, her gaze flitting up to his face. "Admiring the merchandise?" His eyes were half closed, and his voice was low and husky.

Cassandra sat up, fairly leaping out of the bed. "Let me get you some water."

She brought him the cup Seamus's wife had left for her, holding it to his lips. He stared at her over the rim until her cheeks burned with heat. He drained the cup, and she was glad of the chance to turn away from those piercing eyes for a brief moment to try to collect herself.

"The physician said someone tried to fillet you with a rapier." Her stomach churned into knots as she spoke. She turned back to look at him. "What happened?"

His gaze didn't waver. "I don't want to talk about that right now." She could die just from the sound of his voice. She'd thought she would never hear it again. "We have other things to discuss, but first, I'm cold."

"Let me get you a blanket." She said a little too quickly.

"No, my warmer got out of bed quite unexpectedly. I'm just waiting for her to come back." The way he looked at her had her almost undone.

Swallowing heavily, she crossed the room and perched gingerly on the edge of the bed. Not daring to look at him, she cleared her throat, ignoring the heat that was blossoming in her cheeks.

His fingers touched her arm, and then his hand closed around hers, pulling her down beside him. He laced his fingers through hers, and she lifted her eyes to meet his.

"That's better." He murmured.

And that was it. Pushing herself upwards, she claimed his lips with her own. He cupped her cheek with his hand, his fingers tracing a feather-light pattern on her cheek. She grazed his lower lip with her teeth, and he groaned.