Free The Healer's Warrior by Renee Lewin

and peered over her shoulder. Her mouth was trembling and he could see that her eyes were rolling and scanning behind her eyelids. Her eyelids were slightly open. She was between sleep and wakefulness. “Tareq?” she whimpered. “Where are you?”
    Tareq wasn’t sure what to do. Was she dreaming or was she conscious? Why was she calling for him as if she desired his comfort?
    Suddenly, Jem’ya’s whole body began to tremble violently. Tears rolled down her face as she pulled her limbs in even tighter to her body. Her calls became fearful and urgent as if she were cornered by something terrifying. “Tareq! Tareq! Where are you?”
    Instinctively, Tareq scooped her up into his arms. He cradled her against his chest as he folded his legs underneath himself. Fear gripped at his heart as he felt how light she’d become. “Jem’ya, it’s only a bad dream.” Though he was nervous, he gently rubbed her arm to soothe her. He studied her face, anticipating her rejection of his touch, but her eyes remained almost completely closed and her trembling and crying began to subside.
    She slowly lifted her hand and rested it finally on Tareq’s bicep. “Tareq?”
    “Yes, Mahsalom , it’s me.” He moved his hand from her arm and, with his thumb, dried the tears from the corner of her eyes and from the warm plane of her cheek. His hand returned to caressing her shoulder.
    She gave his arm a weak squeeze through the pale yellow sleeve of his shirt. “Tareq, I…” She hiccupped, and started again. “Tareq, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
    Tareq’s hand paused on her shoulder.
    “I’m sorry,” she breathed.
    Tareq swallowed. “No, Jem’ya. No, I deserve it. I deserve worse.”
    “You just wanted us to have fun together.”
    Tareq’s eyebrows furrowed. Was Jem’ya delirious from the hunger? “What do you mean?”
    “You just wanted me to go for a swim with you.”
    Tareq relaxed some. She was remembering the last time they’d been together at the Coast.
    “Tareq, sometimes I must push away from you, to remind myself of how things really are,” she whimpered. “To remember it isn’t possible.” She stroked his arm. Tareq’s heart began to race. “But I can’t stop dreaming of you. See? Here you are.” Jem’ya snuggled against him, pressing her face against his chest. Her eyes still closed, she reached her hand up to the nape of Tareq’s neck and felt at his silky black curls.
    Tareq stared down at her in amazement. He held his breath and kept perfectly still as he felt her fingers playing in his hair. Her slow breathing whispered through the fabric of his shirt, cooling and warming the skin above his racing heart. His stomach fluttered as he savored the moment, but his mind chattered with cautions. This is a mistake. She is not in her right mind. She does not know what she is doing or hear what she is saying. She doesn’t mean it. Do not think too much of this.
    Jem’ya’s hand slipped from his neck as she fell into a deep sleep. She was beautiful. Tareq pressed his lips against Jem’ya’s forehead, a gentle, worried, lingering kiss. Just as he pulled away, Bahja walked into the room with a tray of food. Bahja saw the kiss, but kept quiet. She placed the tray on the ground beside Tareq, bowed her head, and then left. Once the aroma of the food reached Jem’ya’s nose, Tareq heard and felt Jem’ya’s stomach growl as he held her. She began to stir in his arms, and then finally her eyes opened.
    Tareq searched her dark brown eyes. “Jem’ya, please, will you eat?” he asked softly.
    Jem’ya’s eyes widened. “Get off of me!” She drowsily pushed his arms away. “Get away from me!” She fell back onto the bed mat and used her heels and palms to move backwards until her back hit the wall. She sat panting from the effort. Tareq stood.  Jem’ya glared up at him. “You disgusting—!”
    “Why are you being so foolish? You will gain nothing from starving yourself!”
    Jem’ya rested her