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One priest, another man's wife, a whole lot of trouble.
It was almost an instinct that demanded he put an end to this woman's suffering. But he was stubborn. Anyone that told him what to do instantly annoyed him, even if it was his own better judgment talking. However, the need to console her was overwhelming and relentless.
Sighing once more, he laid his arm across her shoulders. With hardly any hesitation, Brianne threw herself into his chest and began to sob. He wrapped his muscular arms around her and held her tightly as tears cascaded down her face. He didn't know what to say; neither did she. But Alex was as much content to hold her in his embrace as Brianne was willing to let him. Finally, her weeping began to subside and Alexander lessened his hug. He was thankful when there was a knock at the door, and he rose quickly to answer it.
He returned with a handful of Brianne's things, his jacket from the dining hall and a pitcher of tea. He set the container on the table and dropped her clothes into the chair beside it.
"We should retire. It will be a long day tomorrow." Brianne rose from the bed, collected her nightgown, and went to the on suite bathroom to change. Alexander quickly removed his own clothes, replacing his bloodied white shirt with a fresh black one with short sleeves. Tying his undershorts, he sat down in a chair next to the fireplace. He poured two cups of tea and added the lemon balm to one. He turned in his chair when he heard the bathroom door open, and what he saw nearly made him drop his tea.
Brianne was in her nightgown; and though it was severely modest, Alexander could still see every curve of her frame. Warmth spread through his body like a flame through parched fields. The sensation ignited his passionate side; she was unlike any other woman he had ever seen. He took a drink of the hot tea, but it only added fuel to the fire.
She was devastatingly beautiful. Her hair was bright as the sun and her deep blue eyes captivated him more than the starry sky. It was a striking complementary, but these opposites blended in perfect harmony. The body he thought was frail was not frail at all. A lean pair of athletic arms continued seamlessly into a set of strong but slender shoulders; and her lower legs were toned like a runner's. She was perfection in his opinion. How had he not noticed before?
Her eyes stared warily at the ground and a rosy pink could be seen in her cheeks. She had no idea what she was doing to him. When he had first met her, she had been determined and resourceful. Now she was self conscious, insecure, and in pain. That last made him want to roar in irritation, the very thought of someone hurting her sent a rush of possessiveness into his veins. No one would ever hurt her again; he would personally see to it.
Regaining his composure as well as his stubbornness, Alex stood and offered her a cup of tea. Brianne took it with a quick thanks and began to sip lightly. He downed his in one gulp and made to put out the candles lighting the room. When only the fire from the hearth remained, he turned down his sheets. Alex watched as Brianne placed her cup on the table and walked to the other side of his bed. Without a word or look to him, she crawled under the blankets and nuzzled into her pillow.
Smiling slightly to himself, Alexander situated himself beneath the covers and eased his arm around the girl beside him. Brianne stiffened at first but then eagerly snuggled against his warm, muscular body. Alex coiled his arm around her shoulder, being mindful of her painful back.
"Thank you," she breathed, "for everything."
"You're welcome," he said after a moment and gently kissed her flaxen hair, something he would never usually do. He felt a smile bless her lips as she lay her head upon his bulky chest. They were a comfort to each other and both fell into a long overdue sleep.
Rene was sitting on the edge of her four-poster bed, clutching her ribs where her father had kicked her.