Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
She said it so casually, as if it weren’t a monumental gift. No one had ever told him they loved him, not since the woman he called mother had died of cancer. Even that seemed a brief period of time. Eliza had taught him there was such a thing as love. Shylah, Bellisia and Zara had taught one another.
He reached across the table and took her hand, his thumb sliding over her bare ring finger. “I want to give you the world, Shylah, because you deserve it. I want my ring on your finger and my name with yours. I’ve only told one other woman I loved her, and she deserved to be called mother. She would have loved you and taken you in as a daughter. I think Nonny will do that when she meets you.”
“I truly wish I had the chance to meet both of them,” Shylah said. “I’m so happy that you were able to actually meet Zara and Bellisia. They’re my family. At least I know they’re taken care of.”
He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it and then leaned over to blow out the candle. “I’ll do the dishes, sweetheart. It’s only fair when you did the cooking.”
“I’m not opposed. I’ll go look up what a Buddhist ceremony entails, and we can design one. But really, Draden, you can’t just pick a religion.”
“What are they going to do to us? If we don’t make it, I don’t think they’re going to follow us to our graves to reprimand us.”
She laughed and helped him clear the table. He didn’t make a big deal over the fact that she’d barely eaten when the soup had been so delicious. She’d been eating the nasty rations Whitney had sent with her, but now that they had decent food, she wasn’t hungry. That alarmed him. He deliberately dropped back a step to watch her walk to the sink. Her shoulders were down, and she seemed to be hunching just a little.
His little peony would never complain. No matter how bad it got, she wouldn’t say anything to him unless she thought it was needed for Trap and the others to find a vaccine for those left behind. She would forever remind him of that classic flower. She had no rival with her elegant beauty and that unforgettable, delicate scent.
“Are you still hurting, Shylah?”
She sent him a quick smile. “I’m doing fine, Draden, considering what we’re expecting. Just a little off. Are you certain you don’t want me to do the dishes while you shower? I don’t mind.”
She wouldn’t, because like the flower, she was dependable. She would stand with him for as long as he wanted her. Draden was an intelligent man. Even if he’d met her under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have taken him long to realize he would want this one woman at his side for the rest of his lifetime and beyond.
“Lie down, sweetheart. I’ll be quick. We can plan our ceremony.”
She flashed another smile at him and went straight to the bed. He cleared the rest of the table watching her without seemingly doing so. She flopped down on the mattress without her usual grace and instead of sitting up to wait for him as she’d done since they’d been thrown together, she curled up into the fetal position and closed her eyes. His heart jerked hard in his chest, rebelling. Knots tightened in his belly. There was no getting around the fact that Shylah, for the first time in her life, wasn’t feeling good.
He took his time with the dishes and his shower, wanting her to fall asleep. When he finally went to bed and eased in beside her, she rolled over and wrapped her body around his, practically sprawling over top of him. She seemed even warmer than earlier, but he told himself that was because the air was still muggy from the storm.
13
“What are you doing awake, Shylah? I thought you were already asleep,” Draden whispered. “You’re exhausted.”
“I can’t go to sleep. I think I’ve gotten used to staying up all night and don’t know how to actually sleep when it’s dark.” There was a quaver in her voice. Small. Barely noticeable, but it was there and Draden didn’t like it.
He smoothed his hand down her back to the curve of her bottom and rubbed gently. She was afraid, and he couldn’t blame her. She’d just seen an entire village, men, women and children wiped out in a horrific way, and now she was facing that same death.
In the stillness of the night, there in the dark, it was impossible to hide from the brutal truth. That virus was inside of her. Unseen, but already wreaking havoc on her body. It was in him as well. For a moment panic welled up, and his heart rate accelerated. He fought dread and terror back, pushing them away. That way led to insanity and an ugly death. He had to be in control not only for himself, but for Shylah. His sweet peony. His delicate flower.