The Gambler's Heart by Gayle Wilson

Author:Gayle Wilson [Wilson, Gayle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“Good morning,” her voice said softly from somewhere above him.

He opened his eye to find her smile. She was already dressed in a white sprigged muslin that somehow deepened the subtle shade of blue in her eyes. He closed his lid against the glare of the strong afternoon sun and knew that it was late. She’d probably been up for hours.

“What time is it?” he asked, reaching out to find her hand, his eye still closed. He felt along her fingers, slender and relaxed in his hold.

“Time you were awake. Ling’s coming to rebandage that.”

He reopened his eye and carefully raised his head enough to see the bloodstained cloth over his stomach. No wonder he ached this morning.

“Sit up,” she said, lifting her pillow to prop behind his shoulders. “I brought you breakfast.”

Obediently he raised his body enough to allow her to place the pillow behind him. He opened his mouth and gently nipped the tip of her breast that had moved too close when she’d leaned over him. He felt her start of surprise.

“Stop it,” she hissed softly, backing away in embarrassment, but he knew she wasn’t angry. He caught her hand again and used it now to pull her down to sit beside him on the bed. She was careful to avoid the stained bandage.

“Kiss me,” he said, tugging her closer.

She dropped a quick peck on his lips, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down against him. He couldn’t quite prevent the soft grunt of pain as she fell against his side. But her mouth settled over his, and he kissed her very thoroughly, only releasing her when he realized her struggle wasn’t feigned.

“What’s wrong?” he said, hating the sudden doubt. Maybe she only liked him to touch her in the dark when she couldn’t see…

“Your beard,” she said, her fingers pushing against his chin. “It hurts.”

He examined the alabaster skin and saw clearly the red burn his whiskers had caused.

“Well,” he suggested softly, not allowing himself to think again about the possibility of her revulsion, “there’s no beard here.” He lifted the scarred profile to rub against the smoothness of her cheek. She turned her head after a moment to nuzzle the rough texture with her lips, a very wifely touch, and then she sat back.

“How do you shave that?” she asked, nothing but curiosity in her voice.

“Very carefully?” he suggested, one dark brow lifting slightly.

And was relieved to hear her laugh.

“Luckily, I don’t have to. There really aren’t any whiskers there. I suppose…”

His voice stopped, and she knew that he wasn’t going to tell her anything else. But it had been a beginning. A relaxation.

“Go away,” he commanded softly. “I have to get up, and…” He paused again, for some reason not wanting to confess that he needed to relieve himself.

He saw by her sudden quick amusement that she knew exactly why he wanted her out of the chamber.

“And you’re too shy to do that in front of me,” she teased.

“Get Ling,” he ordered gruffly, carefully sitting up on the side of the bed.

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