Temple of the Winds

"I'm afraid not. You have now heard everything I know." Drefan turned to Kahlan. "How are you feeling? Did the herb woman, what was her name, stitch you up properly?"

"Yes," Kahlan said, "Nadine did fine. It hurts some, and I have a headache, I guess from everything that's happened. I didn't sleep well last night with the ache of my shoulder, but that's to be expected. I'm fine."

He moved toward her, and before she knew it, he had her arm in his hand. He lifted it, twisted it, and pulled it, asking each time where it hurt. When he had satisfied himself, he moved around behind her and gripped her collarbone with his fingers while pressing his thumbs to the base of her neck. Pain shot up her spine. The room swam.

He pressed under her arm, and at the back of her shoulder. "There. How's that?" Kahlan rotated her arm, finding the pair greatly diminished. "Much better. Thank you."

"Just be careful with it; I've numbed some of the pain, but it still must heal before you put it to heavy use. Do you still have the headache?" Kahlan nodded. "Let me see what I can do for that."

He pulled her by the hand back toward the table and sat her in a chair. He lowered over her, blocking her view of Richard. Drefan pulled her arms out toward himself, squeezing and manipulating the webs between her first fingers and thumbs. His hands made hers seem so small. He had hands like Richard: big, and powerful though less callused. He was hurting her, he was pressing so hard, but she didn't voice a complaint, thinking he must know what he was doing.

With him standing right in front of her, she had to turn her eyes up lest she be forced to stare at his tight trousers. Kahlan watched his hands kneading hers-his fingers working over her flesh. She remembered his hand on Cara. She vividly recalled those strong fingers working their way down under Cara's red leather and between her legs. Working into her. Kahlan abruptly jerked her hands away. "Thank you, that's much better," she lied.

He smiled down at her with a penetrating, hawklike, blue-eyed, Rahl gaze. "I've never healed a headache so quickly. Are you sure it's better?" "Yes. It was just a little headache. It's gone now. Thank you." "Glad to help," he said. He watched her for a long moment, the little smile still on his lips. Finally, he turned to Richard.

"I was told that you are to be wedded to the Mother Confessor, here. You are a very different sort of Lord Rahl from our father; Darken Rahl would never have considered marriage for himself. Of course, he probably was never tempted into marriage by one so beautiful as your betrothed. May I offer my congratulations? When's the wedding?"

"Soon," Kahlan interjected as she moved to Richard's side. "That's right," Richard said. "Soon. We don't know the exact date, yet. We. . have a few things to work out.

''Look, Drefan, I could use your help. We have a number of wounded men, and some of them are in grave condition. They were wounded by the same man who hurt Cara. I'd really appreciate it if you'd see what you could do to help them."

Drefan retrieved his knives, slipping them away without having to look at what he was doing. "That's what I'm here for: to help." He headed for the door.

Richard caught his arm. "You'd better let me go first. Until I change the orders, you will die if you step out of a room before me. We don't want that."

As Richard took Kahlan's arm and turned toward the door, she met Cara's eyes for an instant. Her hearing wasn't affected, Drefan had said. She could hear every thing, even though she couldn't react. She had to have heard Kahlan warn him not to put his hand on her there again. She had to have known what Drefan had been doing, but she had been unable to do anything to stop him. Kahlan's face heated at the memory. She turned and hugged Richard's waist as they went through the door.

Richard looked up and down the quiet hall, and when he saw no one, he backed her to the paneled wall outside her rooms and pressed a kiss to her lips. She was glad that Drefan had eased the pain in her arm earlier in the day; it hardly hurt to circle both arms around Richard's neck.

She moaned against his mouth. She was tired from the long day, and her arm did still hurt just a bit, but it wasn't weariness or discomfort that drove out the moan-it was longing.

He drew her into his arms and turned so that he was leaning his back against the wall instead. His powerful arms crushed her to him, almost lifting her toes from the floor as his kiss became more insistent. She returned it in kind. She pulled his lower lip through her teeth and then backed away for a breath.

"I can't believe Nancy or one of her women isn't here, waiting for us," Richard said.

He had left their guards farther up the hall, around the corner. They were at last alone-a rare luxury. Even though she had grown up with people always around, she now found their constant presence wearing. There was great value in simply being alone.