The Quick and the Fevered by Long Heather;

Author:Long, Heather; [Long, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 4833826
Publisher: Heather Long

Onsi, East of the Tempest Trail

From the moment she woke in his arms until he reluctantly released her to retrieve her dress and bathe in the icy pool, Onsi acknowledged a shift in the world. Neither she nor Jimmy commented on their lovemaking the night before, though she felt his gaze follow her as they prepared a meal and readied the horses to ride again. Her right wrist ached, the ring of bruises clearly detailing the imprint of Shane’s grip. The younger man spotted it during breakfast and the sheer self-loathing in his eyes disturbed her.

“The injury will heal,” she said in halting English. Though she’d grasped several words, not all of them made sense. She needed no language to understand the younger man’s upset. Cursed or—Fevered or not, he had not intended injury and he’d saved her life. Both acts worthy of mentioning.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he said, his voice low and dark. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“This one knows.” She frowned, searching her limited English for the right words to ease his disquiet. Finally, she lifted two small sticks and held them up. “See?” She tossed one into the fire. Flames licked over it, crackling the twig until it blackened until the fire consumed it entirely. She bent the second twig. The soft sap within the twigs made them flexible, allowing her to distort their shape. “See?”

Shane frowned and glanced at Jimmy. “I don’t understand her.”

“You took the hit for her—” Jimmy gestured to the twig in the fire, then covered the bent twig in her hand with his. The stroke of his thumb against the side of her finger sent a quiver of awareness zinging through her system. “Had she taken it, she would be like the twig in the fire. A bruise she can heal. In other words, she’s not angry with you.”

“I’m angry with me,” Shane said, thumping his chest. The torture in his gaze hurt her more than the ache in her wrist.

“You’re not your father, Shane. You were in pain, a lot of it, and you lashed out. Even then, you only held her, preventing her from touching you. You didn’t go any further. You never tried to strike her and, when I told you to put her down, you listened.” Though she only understood some of his words, Jimmy’s even tone carried the weight of authority. He continued to hold her hand throughout his speech, stroking the bruise on her wrist with a light touch.

The contact helped in its own way, offering comfort and soothing. “If the young one would feel better, he can owe me a debt.” Not that she intended to ever collect on it.

Raising his brows, Jimmy considered her. His gaze dipped to her mouth briefly then returned to her eyes. Reading his interest in his gaze, she felt her lips curve.

“Not that kind of debt.”

“Good.” He nodded. “You’re definitely not for him.”

“No,” she agreed. “You are more than enough.”

Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, and he glanced at Shane.

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