The Lost Garden (The Lost Garden Trilogy Book 1) by Tomb K.T

Author:Tomb, K.T. [Tomb, K.T.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Quests Unlimited Press
Published: 2014-02-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Knight and Jess were in Dr. Evan Knight’s den. Knight was holding a rag to his head and was mildly alarmed at the amount of blood he was losing. Jessima IL Eve didn’t seem as concerned and instead, was searching through a knapsack on her hip, which had been obscured by the now-discarded black robe, to Knight’s extreme pleasure.

The woman has the body of a goddess, he thought.

“I’m going to need stitches,” he said again, but it was of no use. She wasn’t listening to him. The woman had an amazing capacity to either tune him out or to concentrate fully on the task at hand. He wasn’t sure which. “Oh, I’d say nine stitches. But do you care? No. You’re just glad that I passed whatever damned test it was that you gave me. In the process, you decided to split my head open.” He had worked himself up to the point where he was now standing.

“It is hardly split open. Now sit.” Without looking up, she casually reached out and pushed his chest with the tips of her fingers. He fell back into the recliner.

“Lucky push,” he said, grimacing as the washcloth rubbed the open wound. “I was off-balance and weak from the loss of blood.”

“True, you passed my test, Evan Knight, but your whining is causing you to lose ground.”

“I could give a damn what you think, sister—”

She didn’t bother to look up. “I am a Daughter of Eve. Not a sister of yours.”

Knight stared at her, with the washcloth pressed against his forehead. He didn’t know what to think or what to say to that. “You’re going to explain what the hell that means to me sooner rather than later!”

She wasn’t listening again. Now, a look of extreme relief passed through her. From her bag she extracted a vial of amber-colored liquid. She turned to him and Knight was struck again by the fact that he was living his dream. It was as if she had stepped out from inside his head and was now a living, breathing person. His entire life he had thought he was crazy to be dreaming of the same woman, over and over.

Now, here she was, in the flesh.

“Sit back, Doctor,” she instructed.

She had eased up next to him, leaning over the arm of the recliner. She intended to give him a dose of the amber oil. “What the hell is that?” he asked.

“It’s our own version of stitches.”

She pushed him back onto the recliner and he let her do so, grumbling. Next, she gently removed the washcloth from his wound. She moved surprisingly tenderly. He could feel her breath on his neck. It was exciting. Too exciting. He could smell her as well. As she had worked up a sweat in the studio, busy trying to kill him, he could smell the sweat on her flesh, but there was something else unknown there. She smelled of wildflowers tinged with a spice that brought back memories of his travels to the Middle East.

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