AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She jostled across the coach and sat down near his head. His skin was clammy, his forehead hot. He was sweating.
Maybe he had a fever.
He formed no words, only that low moaning in the back of his throat.
His body was so tense. She kneaded his shoulder, the one she could reach. Taut, solid muscle.
“Shhh,” she whispered. She soothed a hand across his brow.
Suddenly his body shifted, sliding up the seat toward her. He settled his large head in her lap with a contented sigh. His arm settled around her hip.
He stilled, and his breathing quieted.
She didn’t dare move.
She brushed her fingers through his thick hair, stroking his brow. What had he been dreaming of to make him so agitated?
His father had died when he was so young. She knew everything about him before that moment, and she knew the letters he had sent her from school, and then, after the letters stopped coming, she knew next to nothing substantial.
What had changed him? What had transformed him from the mischievous, yet honest and kindhearted boy she’d known into this immoral scoundrel?
In the darkness of the carriage his shadowed face was less sculpted—more vulnerable, so like the young boy she’d known.
What demons made him cry out in his sleep? She’d always pictured him sleeping soundly, limbs sprawled wide, with a beautiful woman in his bed to cater to his every whim.
He must have unknotted his cravat and yanked open his shirt in his sleep. One button was missing, causing his white linen shirt to gape open at the neck.
You’re making a habit of touching me, Indy...
She couldn’t help herself. She slipped her hand inside his shirt to touch his breastbone, expecting to meet smooth flesh, dusted by hair. What she found was a ridged scar, very close to his heart.
With a feather-light touch she explored more. He had other scars, raised lines as if from the slash of a knife. Round knots of scar tissue in two places that could be bullet wounds.
How had he received such scars? It didn’t add up with what she knew about his life.
He’d been knifed. Shot. Was the stolen-antiquities business so dangerous? She’d never heard of him fighting any duels or being involved in any altercations.
The hard knot of recent scar tissue near his heart made her feel protective. The thought that this huge, strong man beneath her fingertips had stopped a bullet with his muscle and bone. He’d survived an attack, several attacks, and he’d hidden it from the world... from her.
This man she thought she detested... and definitely desired.
She thought she knew him.
Maybe she didn’t know him at all.
He’d hurt her feelings and betrayed her, but she’d never once considered that perhaps he’d been hurt as well. Perhaps he had motives she may not have considered. There could be more to his story, more to him than met the eye.
He lifted his head suddenly. She tried to remove her hand from his chest but strong fingers trapped her hand in a firm grip, just like in her dream.
A rush of heat flooded her belly.
He was awake. And she’d been caught with her hand down his shirt.
Raven’s head was cradled in Indy’s lap. She had her hand down his shirt.
She’d touched his scar.
She knows everything.
