Mirror of My Soul by Hill Joey W

Author:Hill, Joey W. [Hill, Joey W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Adult
ISBN: 9781419953279
Amazon: 1419953273
Goodreads: 1285705
Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Published: 2006-05-03T07:00:00+00:00

Mirror of My Soul

determined way he scrubbed at her feet that kept her silent, watching him. There was nothing left on her feet that she could tell, but he poured a fourth cup of water over them, lifting her foot to check the soles, parting each toe to ensure each one was completely clean.

When he started to rise again, she’d had enough. She caught his hand, held on

firmly. “Tyler, quit it. They’re clean. Tell me what’s happening. And don’t tell me nothing.” She increased her grip, alarmed to see his face was growing paler by the minute, his eyes unfocused as they moved in the direction of her voice. “Sit. Now.”

She was familiar with the signs of an impending faint. Fortunately she had a bottle of drinking water she’d brought with her to replenish her own fluids. When she practically shoved him into a sitting position on the bench, she used the head cover of her jumpsuit as a towel, dampened and pressed it to his forehead. He pushed her away after a second, leaned forward to put his head between his knees, taking deep breaths.

When she tried to close in, he shook his head, lifted his hand, warding her off.

“Give me a moment.”

She couldn’t stop herself from easing onto the bench next to him, reaching out and touching his hair lightly, tentative, one stroke, then another. Sweat was beaded on the back of his neck, staining his shirt, the man she’d never seen truly out of control, the passion of sex notwithstanding.

“The watch. Don’t take it. Leave it all alone.”

“I will,” she assured him. “Tyler, it’s Marguerite. I need you to be here, with me.”

Pressing her knuckles against his temple, his jaw, she leaned down and put her lips over his.

He bolted up off the bench, startling her so that he knocked her backwards, made her land hard on her hip on the ground. Lifting his hand to his lips, he pressed where her mouth had been. He shook his head as if clearing the confusion, reminding her of a horse she’d seen run into a barn once, trying to get his bearings back. His attention moved to the planes, down the runway, then to the bench, to her on the ground.

“Oh, Jesus. Angel, are you okay?” He was by her side in two strides, his arms under her, lifting her, putting her on the bench, checking her arms and legs, cupping her face.

“I didn’t…please tell me I didn’t hit you.”

“Not recently.” At his look of horror, she caught his hands, held them. “Yesterday, the spanking. I was teasing. No, you didn’t hit me. You’re fine. You just made me lose my balance when you got up so abruptly. Ssshhh…it’s okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

He stared at her and Marguerite squeezed his hands. “Tyler, are you all right? Can I do something for you? What’s going on?”

“Your feet…”

“They’re all clean. You took care of them. They’re fine.” She guided his face away from the pond and back to her,

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