Page 72 of Her Runaway Duke
Fear gripped him like icy claws, and he was nearly unable to move. The heat was unbearable, and doubt filled him as memories that were more like nightmares from the past resurfacing in the forefront of his mind, reminding him that he had failed before – would he fail again? He had thought that losing his brother was the worst thing that could ever happen to him, but if he lost Siena too, he wasn’t sure how he could ever live with himself.
He also knew that he didn’t have much time.
“Siena!” he tried to call out, his voice already raw from the smoke. “Siena!”
He stumbled forward, his foot slipping on the ground – only, it wasn’t the ground. It was pale pink fabric.
“My God,” he cried out in both prayer and supplication.
His heart beat even faster in panic when he saw her lying there, her eyes closed, her arm flung out in front of her. He wasn’t sure how long she had been in here nor the amount of time he had been unconscious, but she likely had inhaled too much smoke.
With a start and a curse, he realized flames were licking at the hem of her dress. He beat them out with his hands, uncaring that he was singeing both his palms.
He lifted her, swinging her over his shoulder, the simplest and fastest way to carry her out of this inferno. As he ran backthe way he came, he had to dodge falling debris, and soon he worried that he would be too late – that the window would have literally closed.
But there it was – a glimpse of the darkening sky beyond. He surged through the opening, falling onto the gravel before them, ignoring the rocks pricking his body as he rolled them side to side, extinguishing any flames that had followed them out.
When he finally realized the heat had subsided and the immediate danger had passed, he lifted Siena a few yards away and laid her on the ground, wanting to shake her back to him but knowing that she needed much gentler care.
“Siena,” he called out desperately. “Siena, can you hear me?”
Despite his despair, his experience from war returned to him and he acted without thought, checking to make sure that nothing was blocking her from receiving all of the fresh air she required, which should hopefully be enough to restore her breathing.
At least shewasstill breathing – although it was far too ragged for his liking.
He ran his hands over her body, checking her for burns, terrified she would be subjected to the same pain he had lived with for the past year, but breathed a deep sigh of relief to discover that only her dress had been singed and none of her perfect skin.
A hand touched his shoulder and he flinched, pulling back his fist as he turned, but it was only a man who likely lived or worked near the docks, his hands up in front of him in defense from Levi’s harsh stature.
It was then Levi noticed that an entire crowd had formed around them, drawn by the blaze, many working to extinguish it, using the water from the river, buckets, and a hand-pumped fire-fighting contraption that was being pulled toward them.
A woman appeared next to him with a canvas drawstring bag in her hands. “I can help,” she said. “I might not be a physician but as close to one as you might find at the moment.”
Levi paused, wondering if he should accept her help or if she would only make things worse, but finally, he relented. He’d stop her if anything seemed suspicious.
But all she did was pull a brown bottle from her bag, holding it in front of Siena’s nose as scents of sage and lavender rose in the air. Siena twitched slightly a few times, but her eyes remained closed, leaving Levi to wonder whether or not they had actually done anything.
But then Siena stirred, coughing, and the first word she spoke with her eyes still closed was his name.
“Levi,” she groaned out. “Levi, where are you?”
“Here, love,” he said, pulling her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her far tighter than he likely should have, but he just couldn’t seem to let her go. “I’m right here beside you.”
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, blinking as she looked up into his eyes, and he could only shake his head before he swallowed down his emotion a few more times.
“There is nothing to be sorry for.”
“You had to go into the fire.”
“I would go anywhere for you,” he said, leaning in close, wiping away her tears. “Don’t you know that?”
“But the fire?—”
“Didn’t take you. And that’s all that matters.”
“McGregor—”
“We’ll worry about him later,” he said, needing her to rest her voice, her throat, as he gathered her and tried not to think about how close he had been to losing her. “He will not get away with this.”
