“Why doesn’t Papa want to sell? I don’t believe he has any plans for Easthollow.”
As much as he didn’t like Winchester, he wouldn’t speak ill of him in front of his daughter. “I think he should clarify that.”
“Oh, I see.” She stretched the bandage, becoming serious. “He doesn’t approve of you.”
He didn’t deny or confirm, but his silence was likely more eloquent than his words.
She frowned. “I don’t understand Papa’s prejudice. I’m sure he would change his mind if he took the time to get to know you.”
He heaved a breath as he felt strangely defenceless in front of her, fragile but not in a shameful way. She hadn’t said anything too deep, but her trust filled him with warmth and confidence, like the hug of a loved one. It was the best feeling in the world.
“You don’t know me,” he whispered. “I might deserve the scorn.”
“No, I don’t believe that.” Her eyes held too much honesty. “No one who loves animals as you do can be so terrible.”
“You give me too much credit.”
“You give yourself too little.” She unravelled a large portion of the roll. “Stay still, please. You probably should remove your shirt.”
Tension returned to his body.
“No. I’ll help you wrap the bandage, but the shirt stays on.”
Or she would see the devastation on his skin. His back was covered in bruises and shallow cuts. In fact, it was a matter of chance that his abdomen didn’t have bruises. Usually, allhis body, except his face, showed many contusions at different stages of healing.
“I understand. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She practically hugged him while wrapping the bandage around him. “What did Papa tell you when he refused your offer?”
He swallowed hard, helping her to shift the roll. “First, he refused to give us a simple concession to let the railway go through his land. I offered to buy it. He refused. I tripled the price. He again refused.”
She gazed up at him, and he forgot why he was angry. “That sounds unreasonable of him. Maybe he has some valid reason not to sell it, well aside from his personal dislike of you. I’ll ask him if you want. I don’t want to interfere in your business because, quite frankly, I don’t know much about business deals, but I can talk to him.”
“Do you really want to help me?”
She lifted a shoulder. “If I can, why not?” Her candour was out of a fairy tale, but he wasn’t Prince Charming.
“You’re too kind to me.”
“You’ve met too many unkind people.”
She brushed his skin and his hands as they both worked to wrap his abdomen. Shivers slithered down his back. For the first time, the twitch was completely silenced, stunned by her brightness. A sense of peace washed over him, leaving a trail of tenderness behind. Why was he so vulnerable with her? Sensations overwhelmed him, and he couldn’t control himself.
He took her chin and stared at her mesmerising eyes. “What is it about you?”
She blinked. “I don’t understand the question.”
Neither did he. He stroked her chin with his thumb, wondering if he really wanted to find out why she caused so much turmoil inside him, or if he should simply accept it and succumb to it.
He brushed her plush lower lip with the pad of his thumb. How would it feel to suck it into his mouth until she moaned? Her scent was intoxicating. His pulse raced, for once not because he needed the relief that only pain could give him.
He released her chin and angled his head, giving her the opportunity to say no. When she inched closer, he brushed his lips against hers as lightly as he could, and a shot of pure, undiluted pleasure coursed through him. The lightness of the touch was inversely proportional to the emotion it triggered.
She drew in a breath and parted her lips, but when he edged closer to kiss her deeper, she moved back from him.
“Tristan.” She stared at him as if begging him not to hurt her.
Hell. His name told in her sweet voice slapped him back to the present. The sense of peace was replaced by shame.
He buttoned his shirt quickly. He ought to apologise, but at that moment, controlling his voice was a chore; it would sound husky and heavy with desire, and he’d already made a fool out of himself.
