Haunted Honeymoon by Linda Winstead Jones

Author:Linda Winstead Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sorin Rising

Chapter 7

John slowly opened one eye. Tessa sat on the bed, holding his head in her lap, cradling him and crying as she brushed her fingers through his hair. “What happened?” he croaked as he opened the other eye.

“You’re not dead.” She patted his cheek lightly.

“I don’t think so.”

“Thank goodness.”

No, he wasn’t dead, but his head did throb. Tessa continued to comfort him, sniffling instead of sobbing now, apparently forgetting about the fact that she was still naked. His cheek was pressed against her belly, there where she had confessed that he touched her. In a moment, when his head quit throbbing as though it were about to come off, he was going to kiss her there. Taste her. Start all over again.

“Come on,” she said before he got that chance, scooting out from under him and assisting him from the bed which was littered with scattered pieces of shattered porcelain and wildflowers, and had a big, swirling wet spot to one side.

“She hit me over the head with a vase?”

“Yes. Don’t you remember?”

“No.” He remembered being so close to making love to his wife that he couldn’t think of anything else. That was all he remembered. That was all he wanted to think about now.

Tessa assisted him as if he were wounded, leading him to a ladder-back chair by the window. “You just sit here a moment,” she said gently, as if he were a child. She grabbed her chemise and quickly pulled it on. Evidently, she had not forgotten that she remained naked. Too bad. He liked her naked. He needed her naked. His head felt as if someone had swung an ax down into it, and he closed one eye against the pain as Tessa grabbed the quilt and one pillow from the very broken bed.

“Come on,” she said, carrying the quilt and pillow under one arm and offering him the other.

John didn’t need assistance, but he stood and took Tessa’s arm anyway. It was nice, the way she tried to support him as they stepped into the hall.

“We can’t sleep in that bed,” she said sensibly. “It’s covered with broken vase pieces.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought another room would be different. I thought maybe she’d leave us alone tonight.”

“So did I,” Tessa muttered. She assisted him to the bed in the darkened room, laid the pillow out for him and fluffed it, and when he leaned his back against the headboard, she covered him to the waist with the quilt.

“Where are you going?” he asked when she stepped away from the bed.

“I need to fetch another pillow, and put out those candles, and bring the lamps in here.” She smiled at him weakly, the smile half lit by the light coming from the room across the hall. “Will you be okay?”

“I want you to come to bed,” he said.

“I will. In a minute.”

He closed his eyes as she crossed the hall. Damn, his head hurt! That hag of a ghost was determined to ruin his marriage.

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