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.

He pushed away suddenly, his thumb rubbing over her lips. "Take it easy, minx. When I make love to you, I want to hear my name escape that beautiful mouth, and I don't want it to be quiet." Butterflies—no, a herd of elephants—danced in her stomach, and her heart skipped a beat. "We can't do that here—in case you hadn't noticed."

"So there's a 'when'?" She raised a brow. "It sounds like you've thought about this."

"Every damn time I'm around you. There are quite a few things I intend to do with you once my strength returns." There was such promise in the words, and she almost stopped breathing for a moment. "That's why we need to talk about some things, so you need to keep your hands to yourself for a few minutes, understand?"

"You're one to talk." She muttered, pulling reluctantly away from him. A thrum of fear went through her for a moment. What if he still planned to leave her?

"Fulsmith is dead. We have to get back to Fergus Manor. Apparently, Ethan and Lavinia sent for your father when they couldn't find you. We have to get to him before Granger does." Nickolas said.

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it had in no way prepared her for that.

"Father's in Scotland?" She sat a little straighter. "What does that have to do with Granger?"

"Everything." Nickolas sighed. "Something happened between them years ago, and now, Granger's on the hunt for his blood. Not just his blood, either. It's his goal to wipe out the Antrucha bloodline entirely."

Fear coursed through her veins. "We have to get back. We have to go now!"

His hand closed over hers as she seemed to be about to get up. "It's under control. I'm going to look after you, and by doing so, I'm going to keep him safe." She didn't look at him. "Do you trust me, Cassandra?"

The way he said her name had her turning back to him. She held his gaze and nodded once. He had gotten her this far safely, and she trusted that he would do whatever it took to keep her family intact.

"When we get back there, I want to ask him if I can marry you, because whatever is coming, I want you at my side, and I want to do this the right way. You're worth too much for me to do it any other way." He searched her face. "Do you want that? If not, I'll go. I'll let you forget all this, and I'll leave you alone. I'll still protect you and see that Granger doesn't harm your family, but I want you to decide for yourself." He swallowed, and she got an inkling of just how difficult that would be for him.

"I want you." She whispered. "I want you every day and every hour."

"I've killed so many people." He spoke with such bluntness and stared at her with fierce intensity that she almost felt like he was trying to convince her not to love him. "And I did it for money."

"I know." She traced his jawline with her finger and smiled. "I don't care."

He looked away suddenly. "You're not the first woman I've been with, Cassandra. Part of my work for Granger was a game at seducing, and I was so damn good at it that he used me that way at every opportunity. He knew how much I hated it." His eyes flickered up to her face as if looking for disgust and rejection.

"So many of them were married, Cassie." He swallowed. "Do you know what it's like to spend a career bedding women who were just looking for someone to give them a little attention? Can you blame me for believing love didn't exist? I saw so many marriages that began full of love and light that were dead and cold after only a few years, and I manipulated their raw brokenness for Granger's advancement. That became part of my reputation. Bedding my victim's wives before dealing the killing stroke."

There was such shame in his expression, and he didn't look at her. It was as if he wasn't even worthy to look her full in the face.

She cupped his cheek, lifting his face until he was forced to look her in the eyes. "I love you. I don't care about any of that. I see you—the real you—and I love you."

"I don't deserve you." He whispered.

"If it makes you feel better, there were other men before you, too." She said, trying to lighten the mood a little. "We never. . .umm. . .I've never. . ." She blushed fiercely, and there was unbridled amusement dancing in his eyes. "I guess we've both played our fair share of the seducing game." She cleared her throat.

Silence fell between them. Cassandra looked at him and felt no need to fill it. In his company, she could simply be.

He winced slightly, and his eyes began to droop as his exhaustion took over. The physician had warned her against over-exerting him when he woke up.

"You're tired." She said.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I wanted to tell you what happened."

"In time," she smiled. "We've got all the time in the world." She nestled up against him, feeling safe despite her fear and worry over the future.

One thing was certain: they had to get back to Fergus Manor as soon as Nickolas was fit to travel, and there was no telling how long the trip would take. She could only hope and pray they would get there in time.

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Whew! There we have it. Nickolas isn't dead. We aren't out of the woods yet, though. The next few chapters will be a little more difficult. We're nearing the end. My goal is to finish the book at around 50 chapters, but I guess we'll see where it leads.

What do you think will happen with Cassandra's father? What's the history between him and Granger that Nickolas hinted at? Will Cassandra and Nickolas make it back in time to save the rest of the family?

I'm so glad I got a chance to post this today. I actually have today off work, so I can do some more writing! Yay! I hope to be able to post the next chapters fairly quickly, so keep your eyes open!