Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2 by Cherise Sinclair

Author:Cherise Sinclair [Sinclair, Cherise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: VanScoy Publishing Group
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead. ~ Marilyn Monroe

* * *

Unable to settle yet, JJ picked up the living room. Then she washed the mugs and glasses. Then she tidied the kitchen. Because she couldn’t get herself to leave. Little Regan had almost died.

The knowledge was impossible to deal with.

A sound made her look up. Caz walked from the hallway into the kitchen, pulling off his heavy flannel shirt. He probably didn’t even realize she was still there, and now she’d have to…

The entire front of his T-shirt was shredded and covered in blood. She gasped.

His head jerked up. “Princesa, I didn’t realize—”

“What did you do? How badly are you hurt?”

“It’s just a few scratches. I’ll certainly never put a cat inside my coat again.” He half-smiled. “I tripped over a log, and he panicked.”

Her head spun as she stared at the blood. Sucking in a hard breath, she forced the emotions away. “I can’t believe you didn’t clean those immediately. Doc.”

Caz shrugged. “There were more important things to do. Making sure Regan was all right and not hypothermic. Settling everyone down.”

“Shirt off. Let’s see how bad it is.” She used her LEO voice.

As he shrugged, obviously deciding not to rile her further, she realized he didn’t play macho games. It was just another reason she liked him so much.

He pulled off his shirt.

She winced at the sight of long scratch marks and relaxed. “It’s not as bad as I thought. They’re not too deep. Where’s your first-aid kit?”

“I’ll get it.” Shirtless, he headed for the hallway.

And wow. The man was incredibly…male. The finely sculpted musculature of his back was captivating.

He pulled the first-aid kit from a cupboard in the hall and headed back…and she was still staring.

His chest was broad with small, dark nipples. The scratches ran across his ribs. Lean ribs.

“Here you go.” When he handed her the kit, the muscles of his pectorals and biceps bunched and rippled.

“Thanks.”

The line of his jeans went across a ridged abdomen.

He cleared his throat, and she jerked her gaze up. Laughter lightened his dark eyes.

“Right.” Turning on the water, she took the washcloth he handed her and cleaned the scratches. Applied antibiotic ointment. Applied Band-Aids to the worst spots.

Rather than watching her hands, he was studying her face.

“Done.” She started to step back.

He touched her cheek. “Thank you, JJ. For the first aid. For finding Regan. For caring for her.”

“She almost d-died.” JJ’s eyes, her nose, her face started to burn, and she swallowed against the thickness in her throat.

“Ah, princesa,” he murmured and curved his hand around her nape, tucking her head against his shoulder. And she needed to be held so much she ached with it.

As if he knew, he pulled her closer. “It’s over. Everyone is safe.”

Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her face against his shoulder—and cried.

Not trying to shush her, he simply held her, making soft comforting sounds, and let her cry herself out.

Oh God. Still hiccupping with sobs, she felt like a fool.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.