Elijah by Jacquelyn Frank Page B

question,” he snapped.
    “Well, if you must know, I am in the process of saving your life.” She said this matter-of-factly as she bent to retrieve a bowl from the floor.
    She disappeared into the next room before he could respond to that particularly inconceivable idea, but returned moments later with a clean bowl. She reached into the fire and the scent of food thickened in the air. He sat up, unwilling to lie there like some sort of invalid, using a pillow behind his shoulder to help prop himself up while softening the press of his wounded shoulder against the stone wall at his back.
    Siena carried the bowl over to him and, placing a careful knee on the bed, she settled beside him, facing him and extending the offering of food to him. He looked her over suspiciously for a moment and then reached to take the presented food. She held on to it even after his hands encircled it, as if she were afraid he might spill it.
    “It wouldn’t be the first time,” she noted dryly when he gave her a scathing look.
    The remark put together a series of disconnected clues floating around in his head with a click.
    Quickly he realized he had scalded the skin on one of his arms, exactly the kind of burn that would result from hot soup being spilled over it. What was even more disturbing was he finally understood she had been holding exactly such a bowl when he had suddenly grabbed her.
    Immediately he scanned her for burns, and for the first time he noticed both of her thighs were scalded a bright red. This, he realized, was why her dress was wet. He had caused her to burn not only him, but herself. An answer, he was understanding, undeserved of someone who he was realizing was intent on nursing him.
    Elijah took the bowl from her and set it aside. He took hold of her arm before she could move away, holding her tightly when she would have pulled back. His free hand brushed aside a couple of inches of her dress’s material, exposing rapidly forming blisters. She tried to push his hand away, to retreat, but he would not let her. He was aware that he was holding her with his injured arm and she might have made a clean escape if she would only apply a little force, but she was clearly unwilling to do any more damage than he had already done to himself these past few minutes.
    Suddenly, Elijah felt like an enormous jerk. Nothing was so shameful as the clarity of a moment like that, and it reflected in his eyes quite clearly.
    “Never mind,” she insisted, trying to push his hand away once more.
    “Siena…”
    “Don’t,” she commanded sharply. “Don’t get all remorseful, warrior. I am aware you did not mean it. You need nourishment. If you wish to make me feel better you will brave my culinary skills and take some soup. I need to cool the burns and bathe. The mineral pool in the next room will help them heal quickly. We both of us heal rapidly, as you know, so this is a waste of your energy.”
    “It is a terrible way to thank you for saving my life. I remember now what was happening. That scream…that was you.”
    “I thought it would be counterproductive to my hard work offering peaceful overtures to your King if you were found suddenly dead in one of my territories. Believe me, my motivations were highly selfish. As you probably expected.”
    She finally freed herself, turning away from him and exiting the room quickly. He saw her walk past the fireplace on the other side a couple of times before she retreated to a place some Page 21

    distance away.
    Feeling like a complete barbarian, he settled his mind to accomplishing what she had requested of him. He finished the entire bowl of soup by the time he heard her returning to the room just outside the doorway. The only sound she really made was the patter of bare soles on stone. Even so, she walked very lightly for a woman of what could be considered Amazonian proportions. It was quite some time before she entered the room to retrieve the bowl and take a willow broom to the