The Bewitching Twin Read online Donna Fletcher (Twin Series #2)

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Twin Series Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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When supper was finished Rogan asked, “Do you plan to see James? If so, I will go with you. I would like to see how he fares.”

“Prayers are forever on my lips for him,” Aliss said while refilling her basket.

“Do you really think he has a chance?”

“Time will tell.”

They both reached for her basket at the same time, Rogan’s hand slipping over hers. He could not help but squeeze her soft flesh ever so lightly and he could have sworn he felt her tremble.

“I will carry it for you,” he said.

She looked about to refuse him then suddenly she nodded and hurriedly withdrew her hand from beneath his. This time her shiver was noticeable, cautioning him that she was not impervious to his touch, and that knowledge fired his loins all the more.

A smile and a shake of his head as he followed behind her expressed perfectly his own confused thoughts on the matter.

Aliss remained behind to watch over James. Anna had insisted that she would return later in the night so that Aliss could get some sleep.

Rogan had spoken with James’s grandparents before taking his leave and the older couple retired hours ago to a sleeping pallet on the floor.

She now sat alone with James. His color looked good, his sleep quiet; she prayed both were a good sign.

Aliss leaned back in the chair, the first time all day she could sit and do absolutely nothing. But while her fingers might be idle, her mind refused to stop. Healing forever occupied her thoughts; tonight, however, Rogan had taken its place.

“Who cares for you?”

His question had lingered in her mind since he had uttered it.

She had not answered him. She had not known how to answer him. Her sister cared for her, but she had the feeling that was not what Rogan had implied. His question had pertained to a man caring for her.

Why should it matter to him? And why had the sight of his naked chest so unnerved her? She had seen many men’s naked chests before and never had they affected her as Rogan’s had.

His taut muscles rippled one into another, producing an upper torso that was lyrical in form and flesh. Old scars dotted his chest here and there, reminding her that he had suffered his fair share of battles. And how appropriate that he carry a significant scar over his heart, as if physically scarred by his wife’s passing.

She shook her head vigorously. Her exhaustion was obviously making her delirious with nonsensical thoughts. The Wolf had abducted her from her home and here she sat admiring his naked chest.

He was a man—no, a warrior—intent on having his way at all costs and she would do well to remember that. She was here to serve a purpose and once it was done, she would return home—thank God.

No more sharing meals with him, no more conversations and no more bare chests. She suddenly felt upset and shook off her distress with a shiver. She reminded herself that she would soon be free, a prospect she was looking forward to. She loved her freedom, answering to no one but herself, coming and going as she pleased, studying her healing, no one to bother her—that was her life. But was it what she truly wanted?

“Water.”

James’s mumbled request pulled Aliss from her musings and she gently lifted his head as she pressed a water-filled cup to his lips.

“Thank you,” he said with a heavy sigh and struggled to keep his eyes open.

“You are in pain?”

He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. “I am grateful for the pain.” He caught another painful breath then released it. “It tells me I am alive.”

“Sleep helps heal you,” she said.

His eyes suddenly widened and Aliss was struck by their vivid blue color, like a spring morning after a rain, bright and full of promise.

“Will I live?”

It was a plea more than a question and one she had heard endless times before.

She had found that no good came of lying to the ill. “I cannot say for sure, though I am encouraged by your courage.”

“I want to live,” he said with conviction.

She took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. “Then fight along with me.”

“I will never stop fighting.”

“Neither will I.”

His eyes closed and his faint smile faded and Aliss continued to hold his hand.

Anna showed up shortly after midnight. “Go rest, the sick will be expecting your visits tomorrow.”

Aliss nodded. “Instruct his grandmother what to do then get some rest yourself. I prefer he not be alone during the night and you taking turns with me helps relieve me of the sole burden of his evening care.”

“I enjoy helping,” Anna said and took the seat beside the bed.

“Again, if fever or—”

“I know,” Anna interrupted. “You are to be summoned directly if fever or fester sets in.”


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