Free South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) by Nanette Kinslow Page A

something to help.”
     
          She took his hand gently and led him back into the house and directed him to sit on the freshly made bed.
          “I’m thinking this is not a good idea,” he protested.
          “Then you’re thinking wrong.” She lifted his leg and pulled off his boots firmly. He cleared his throat loudly and tried to convince her to stop.
          “Hush,” she scolded him. “Lay quiet.” She lifted his legs to the bed and he protested again.
          She grasped his knee firmly and felt the muscle tighten in her hand. She massaged it gently and Roland objected hoarsely. Caught between the sweet relief of her soothing massage, and his fear of his uncontrollable reaction to her closeness, he sighed deeply. She moved her hand capably along the damaged quadriceps along the top of his thigh, kneading the muscle until she felt it relax and then moved another few inches up.
     
          He grabbed her hand suddenly and lifted it from his leg. She looked up and he watched her intently. “You need to stop now,” he whispered, inches from her face. “It feels wonderful, but if you continue…” the words choked off in his throat and he stared into her eyes.
     
          His face was serious and determined and Emma found herself wanting the man. His eyes were dark and exciting and she reached down and took his hand from her wrist. He didn’t resist her, and she stood slowly and walked away from the bed.
          He cursed as she walked away. Each time she stirred him, the pain eased. It was as if his desire for her were healing in ways he never thought possible. He gathered himself, getting to his feet and found her on the porch.
          She turned to him and spoke softly. “Roland,” her eyes were sad and resigned. “I’ve been lonely too long. I wanted nothing more than to be close to you. I don’t expect anything more. I suspect your accident has done more damage than you’re telling me and I have to tell you that I don’t care. I don’t expect any more from you than friendship. There are lots of things that make up a man. Some men are accomplished lovers, but they are not good partners. I have no expectations at all. If I made you uncomfortable or led you to think that in any way I expected more than you can give then I apologize.”
          She touched his arm softly and looked into his dark eyes. As she turned to descend the stairs he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely.
          Emma gasped loudly as he looked down into her eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, running her fingers through his hair and whispering his name against his lips.
          “I don’t know what I can…” She kissed away his protests.
          “Roland,” she whispered. “I don’t care. I only know I want to be with you.”
     
     
         Mark stopped dead in the roadway, and watched the couple in each other’s arms on the porch. He chuckled to himself and cut into the woods, deciding to visit the stables from the back way. “Chickens,” he muttered to himself, “I knew it. It took them long enough.”
     
     
          Roland took Emma’s wrist and led her back to the room and sat her on the bed.
          “I don’t know what kind of a man I am anymore, Emma. I was a good man once. I don’t know now. I know that since you have been here I feel things when I watch you I never imagined I would feel again. I couldn’t bear to disappoint you. And I fear I’ll not be able to stand myself if I do.”
          “Then let me ease your pain.” She directed him to lie down and touched his leg as she had earlier. If I expect only that, then I cannot be disappointed.”
     
          She began to relax the muscle in his leg again and, as she moved closer to the tattered scar, he gasped raggedly.
          “Wait,” he whispered.
          She stopped her massage and held her hand