AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her cheeks warmed. “He thinks I’m a whore?”
“Aye. He does.”
She looked to her right, only to be met with her own reflection. Rumpled hair. Her face was darker in color than it usually was—too many days in the sun on the ship. Her traveling habit a shambled mess of wool and muslin. Her lips redder than usual with the blood pumping hard through her veins from the running.
She very well could be easily mistaken for a whore.
She truly wasn’t that far removed. For she didn’t mind imagining what could possibly be done in front of these mirrors. The certain ways that Roe had stretched her body during the past days had her wondering just what their reflections would look like, tangled and out of breath.
Roe shifted awkwardly behind her. A movement meant to be hidden from her, but she could see it quite clearly past her shoulder in the mirror.
She turned to him. “What is wrong?”
He shook his head, his body stilling. “Nothing.”
“Nothing? Ballocks.” She stepped over to him, looking down at him. “Were you injured in the fall? I didn’t so much as get a scratch from that fall, you had me wrapped so tight. But you…” Her fingers went out to his neck, moving his head back and forth, her look running up and down along his body, searching.
He didn’t flinch, didn’t move a muscle.
“Roe, this does us no good. What happened?”
His eyes lifted to her, the darkness in his grey irises annoyed. “My shoulder is out of its socket.”
“Oh.” She looked down to his right shoulder. He had kept the arm unusually immobile since they fled the docks, only holding her with his left arm. “Well, we must call a surgeon to get it back into place. It happened to my cousin once. Lachlan screamed and hollered so much we thought a pig was being slaughtered. He was nine, of course, so I’m sure he thought he’d never have use of his arm again.”
Roe shook his head. “We can’t call a surgeon. No one knows I’m here. And no one knows you’re here with me—I made sure the butler couldn’t identify you. I’ll not ruin that by having anyone entering the room.”
“But you need to have it fixed.”
His look pierced her. “I’ll not chance it, Tor.”
Her mouth clamped shut. She could argue it, or she could try and help.
She took a slight step back from him, her hands on her hips. “So then, tell me what I can do.”
His left eyebrow lifted.
She exhaled an exasperated breath. “Yes, tell me. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
“Fine.” He stood up, looking down at her for one long second, then moved past her and lay down flat on his back on the floor. “I need you on my right side, sitting.”
She stepped over his long legs and sat by his side.
“Move my right arm out, just slightly, and then wedge your foot against my ribcage—you’re going to grab onto my wrist and pull my arm toward you.”
Torrie nodded, quickly loosening her boots and removing them, and then she slid backward, extending her foot out in front of her. She shifted his right arm outward from his body and he flinched.
“Sorry.”
He managed a smile for her. “It needs to happen—ignore my face. I don’t hide pain as well as you. Get your foot in place.”
She wiggled the arch of her foot against his ribcage.
“Now I have to relax and you have to pull my arm out toward you—but gently, no yanking. You should feel it pop back into place.”
With a nod, she tried to still the quiver in her fingers as she wrapped her hands around his wrist, ignoring the flip her gut had just performed. Now was not the time for squeamishness. If he could sew her skin closed, she could damn well pull his arm.
“Nod when you’re ready.”
