Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
The next morning, the small crew prepared to move.
Only a few of the most loyal remained to help get Michel to Carth along with the remaining guards.
True to his word, Renault helped by storing their materials and arranging an apartment.
Michel knew that he and Eve would be on their own for a while, and he hoped they would avoid trouble.
Iman and Gerald helped Michel onto the horse before returning to their own mounts.
Eve hovered. Michel enjoyed her concern a great deal.
She had mended him and brought him back to life the night before.
All he wanted was to heal quickly so he could get inside her again.
He grinned as she fussed over him, trying to settle him as best she could on the horse.
He tucked his arm to his side in painful protection of his wound. With his other hand, he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her forehead.
She looked up at him. “You stop that,” she teased.
“Stop what?” he growled, knowing exactly what she meant.
“You need your body to recover. Don’t think about anything that will divert your blood from healing.”
He laughed. “That will be very difficult,” he whispered to her. “Now that I know what you feel like wrapped around me. It’s no longer just in my mind.” The want for her flamed through his body. “I plan to stare at you and divert my blood the whole way there.”
“Michel,” she said with a warning tone, but he could see her flush.
A short while later, they were traveling the road to Carth.
The pain surprised him as every step of the horse ripped at his skin.
Last night, he had hardly noticed. Even if he had, nothing had been more important than connecting with Eve.
Now, though, pain made him woozy while fear of an attack kept him anxious.
He kept nodding off, only to snap awake in a panic.
In this moment, he didn’t think he could do much to stave off any attacks.
He felt marooned, isolated with a very precious treasure.
His reputation no longer helped him. His position gave no more protection.
Somehow, he would make it back to Chevalerie with Eve, but his legacy would be in complete shambles.
He didn’t care, though. Take his position. He just wanted her.
His body ached with the memory of her. They’d come together finally.
The way she had looked spread open on top of him, the way she had felt when he took her beneath him.
He’d never felt that kind of fervor before.
Then again, everything was different with Eve.
He hoped she didn’t think that one time was all he would need.
He laughed to himself at the thought as he watched her up ahead.
He also didn’t understand how he managed to be rigid and broken at the same time.
He winced from the pain in his side along with his straining erection as his horse took a trot over a slope, jostling him in the saddle.
He made a noise that got Eve’s attention, and she pulled her horse around, worry in her expression.
“I’m fine.” He laughed. “I just want to get there.”
She gave him another look and then adjusted her horse.
He knew he would never release her. Not even a chance.
The only thing he wanted was to get her home and put a fortress between her and anyone who would come for her.
He would spend his life fighting to protect her.
And with every slice of pain that cut his body, so did a throb of adoration for her.
The only thing he cared to fight for was the ability to stay by her side. If, of course, she would have him.
The city of Carth boomed along the Indus River.
Eve knew Carth. It had been her first stop when she ran away.
A large eastern trade city, its population hovered around several hundred thousand.
The people were a mix of many cultures: Mongolians, Middle Easterners, Chinese, nomads, and permanent residents.
Merchants as far away as India and the Eastern coast of the African states frequented the city.
The many hues of people made it easy to hide.
Known for its constant stream of political upheaval, fighting over which faction claimed the city as its own persisted.
Still, the merchants and working people in the city soldiered on, despite the tides of war, continuing the palate of trade that rested within the city walls.
It could be a dangerous city for one who strayed into dark corners, but with some smarts and planning, one could easily go unnoticed.
Renault had arranged a small apartment tucked into a busy strip of commerce patronized by an elderly man, his daughter, and her husband.
Upon meeting, Eve liked them right away, which was a relief because they would have no other comrades here.
The elderly man seemed happy to assist them, as friends of Renault’s, and swore no one in the city would threaten his properties due to his strong reputation.
They brought the horses into the small courtyard at the base of the building, and Iman and Gerald helped Michel down from the horse as Michel clutched his wounded side and grumbled.
Eve kept shushing him and calming him, anxious to have him resting again.
They helped him up the flight of stairs and then directly to the bed once they entered the room.
The room was sparse but had the necessities.
A small hearth, one bed in the corner. A window and a table.
She checked over Michel to see that several wounds had started leaking blood, and she felt a fever in his skin.
She had no time to worry now, not until everything had settled.
So, she set to work, boiling water for a medicinal broth and adding the necessary roots and herbs.
The men came in and out, bringing their supplies. Michel lay on the bed, blood seeping through his shirt, calling out orders. “Horses!” he insisted. “You have to board the horses!”
“Michel,” said Eve. “The horses have been cared for—”
“We must make contact with the town officials and arrange guards while we are here.”
“Michel—” she said, trying to calm him, as she finished her concoction and strained it into a cup.
“The wagon must be obscured and stripped of our affiliation.”
“Michel—” she repeated.
“We will need towels,” he called into the room.
Eve paused and looked at him. “Towels?” she repeated as the last of the men left to tend to her shopping list.
Michel looked back at her daftly. “You always want towels.”
Eve stifled a laugh. “Perhaps I won’t need any if you stop getting hurt so often.” She came and sat beside him on the bed. “Michel,” she said. “Do not worry, everything has been taken care of.”
“What about…” He paused, as if he were unable to come up with something else to check.
“At the moment, we are safe.” She sat beside him. “Now drink this.”
He groaned. “Ugh, I hate these stinky things.”
“Just hush and drink.” She had to agree that it was quite pungent. “It will make you feel better.”
He hoisted himself up with a grimace and took the cup. He drank while glaring at her. He pushed it away, half done. She pushed it back. “All of it,” she said.
He complained again, but finished it.
“You will have a dreamless sleep now, my love,” she said, touching his cheek.
His droopy eyes shot open. “Did you call me ‘love’?” Suddenly, his arms were around her waist, tipping her toward him. She fell across his chest.
Startled by his reaction, she thought about it.
“Yes,” she said, suddenly breathless from being in his arms. The worry of getting him safe had eclipsed her desire to revel in the feelings of the night before, but now, it all came back, memories in her mind, in her body.
She shifted to lean on him in a way that didn’t put pressure on his injuries.
“I suppose I did call you ‘love.’” She ached being near him, his dark eyes locked on hers.
Now was not the time, so she kissed his nose and adjusted his cushion. “Rest while I change your bandages.”
Michel let her out of his arms and leaned back to watch her.
He didn’t speak anymore. He had that smug look on his face again.
It made her purr for him inside her chest. She smiled, knowing they were both thinking of their night together.
The broth would work quickly on him. It would soothe his fever and aid in healing his wounds.
It would also put him to sleep, so she could tend to him without being harassed. She laughed to herself.
Eve removed his bandages and checked the large wound across his side, by now an angry red.
It did, however, show signs of scabbing.
His skin felt feverish. She worried that he had been far too active.
They had ridden fast on the horses, and it had been harder on him than he led on.
She covered the wound with a towel. Ha! she thought.
He was right. She did use towels often. She returned to create a soothing poultice that would pull any new toxins from the wound.
Michel continued watching her. Every time she looked his way, his eyes were on her. She enjoyed caring for this man very much. She knew that he did not put his trust into others so easily, but he had completely submitted to her authority. The thought filled her with warmth.
By the time the poultice was ready, Michel’s eyes had closed, and he was drifting into a light sleep.
She placed the poultice across his wound, warning him that it would sting for a moment before cooling and creating a numbing sensation.
He grimaced, and as he did, she leaned forward to kiss his lips before pulling back.
When he closed his eyes for the evening, there was peace in his expression.