Free Love Everlastin' Book 3 by Mickee Madden Page B

the
second intruder, he laboriously ran toward the house. His burden
never moved or made a sound. He sensed that, although she had no
wounds, her heartbeat was dangerously weak. Little wonder. She was
little more than a block of ice.
    Roan and Laura were waiting
for him inside the double doors. Although Winston was staggering
with fatigue and cold combined, he stood fast while the couple
unitedly worked to get two blankets about the stranger. Then Roan
took the woman into his arms, and Laura opened a third wool blanket
and draped it over Winston's shivering form.
    "Aggie's runnin’ a bath in
yer room," Roan told Winston as he rushed to the
staircase.
    "I'll make tea and heat up
some soup," Laura said, beelining for the parlor door.
    Winston set the bolts on the
double doors then headed down the hall.
    Despite his wobbly legs and
numbed feet, he somehow managed to keep up with Roan as they
climbed the stairs to the second floor landing. Winston couldn't
stop shivering, and he wondered if it was mainly due to the
unmerciful chill in his body, the fact that the woman could very
likely be dying, or that the one remaining outside was—
    He refused to analyze how
that could be possible. Not now. As long as the house was locked
tight, he'd have a little time before having to warn the laird of
the impending danger.
    When Winston entered his
bedroom on Roan's heels, the boys were nowhere in sight. Agnes
stuck her head out of the bathroom, issuing a terse,
"Hurry!"
    "Give her to me," Winston
rasped a moment before Roan would have stepped into the smaller
room.
    The laird turned a grimly
quizzical look on Winston but passed the woman into Winston's
waiting arms.
    "Listen carefully and don't
ask me any questions right now," Winston said, his authoritative
tone further taking Roan aback. "Make sure every window and door in
the house is locked tight. Every window and door!" He pushed past a
dumbfounded Roan and barked at Agnes, "Watch the boys. Don't let
them ou' o' your sight!"
    For a split second he saw
rebellion flash in her eyes. Then she hurried out of the bathroom,
closing the door behind her.
    Winston took a moment to get
his wits about him. Meager steam rose up from the waiting bath. A
glance at the half-filled porcelain tub gave him the stamina to
force his stiff, weakened legs to obey him one stretch longer. He
eased his right foot into the water. At first it felt scalding and
he nearly abandoned his intentions. Clamping down on the pain, he
hoisted himself up and over the rim of the tub, and stood for a
second in the bathwater, telling himself he would not succumb to
the fierce sensations of pins and needles assaulting his feet and
legs.
    Tears welled up in his eyes
as he lowered himself into the deep, claw foot tub. The
re-awakening of his circulation was excruciating, but he settled
himself on the bottom, clothes, blankets and all, the woman angled
lengthwise across his legs, one side of her unseen face against his
chest. Tears streamed down his crimson and gray blotted
face.
    Thoughts of the Phantom
tried to intrude, but he forced himself to maintain his focus on
the woman. Her heartbeat was steadier now, her breathing shallow
but regular. She was no longer a block of ice, but supple flesh.
The water was shoulder-high to her. Cupping his left hand, he
scooped handful after handful of the warm liquid onto the top of
her head. When he could no longer feel a chill emanate from her, he
gingerly brushed her hair back, exposing a face so exquisite, his
heart seemed to leap into his throat. Perhaps knowing that she
wasn't aware of him was what gave him the courage to trace her
features with his fingertips.
    Beneath her mane of thick
dark hair was a smooth brow. Flawless, pale, almost translucent
skin. Delicately winged eyebrows, expressive even in her state of
unconsciousness. Long and thick dark eyelashes. A pert nose. Full
pouty lips. A dimpled chin, slightly turned up.
    It struck Winston that, even
in her condition, she