Jamie by Lori Foster Read Free Book Online Page B

even thought to put on a shirt. Or maybe, to be honest, he hadn’t wanted to. And now her admiring gaze moved over him with drunken appreciation.
    She swaggered toward him to touch his beard, her expression absorbed, wondrous. “You are so shaggy,” she breathed, making it sound like a damned compliment. “I remembered you being clean-cut and well groomed. If it hadn’t been for your eyes, I might not have recognized you.”
    Defensiveness burned to the surface, but he didn’t allow it to sound in his reasonable reply. “Why should I bother shaving?”
    Her fingers continued to stroke him, down his throat and back up to his jawline, making him nuts. “Because all this facial hair hides your handsome face.”
    â€œYeah?” He held himself rigid. “Maybe that’s the point.”
    Weaving unsteadily, she touched the end of his nose. “You think certain people are still after you, don’t you?” She smiled in a you’re-so-silly way.
    Jamie had had enough. Too much. He’d grown used to dealing with other people’s problems, their chaos and disappointments. He had none of that in his life, because he had no one in his life.
    That’s the way it had to be, and damned if he’d let a chatty, pushy, stacked redhead disrupt what he’d so carefully built.
    Jamie curved his hands around her throat and held her still. “I have reason to be concerned, Faith.” Menace lacing his tone, he growled, “After all, you’re here, aren’t you?”
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    Through the night, Jamie sat in a chair, watching Faith sleep. Too restless to give in to sleep himself, he’d been sitting there since she dozed off, trying to understand her.
    And trying to understand himself.
    Faith wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. Just the opposite, she seemed to trust him implicitly.
    He didn’t have a clock up by his bed, but he didn’t need one to know dawn approached. She would wake up soon.
    Drawing his feet up to the hard wooden seat of the chair and wrapping his arms around his knees, Jamie studied her. Contrary to his expectations, she hadn’t shied away from his veiled accusation, hadn’t paled in the face of his fury.
    Instead, she’d gone on tiptoe, hugged him tight, and told him not to worry so much. Her scent intoxicated him. The feel of her soft body stirred him.
    And her hug had been ... reassuring.
    While he’d mentally floundered for a response, she’d yawned and announced that she needed to sleep.
    Getting her up the ladder had been a trick. Because she wore only a shirt, he went up first and then half pulled her up behind him. He’d figured that with her stuck in his bed, he’d sleep on the couch and have privacy in the rest of his cabin. He’d even carried a glass of water up to her since she had a sore throat.
    But then he couldn’t make himself walk away.
    Shit.
    Jamie didn’t want privacy. Not from her. Not right now.
    He wanted to crawl into that bed with her and feel her all along the length of his body. He wanted—
    She shifted the tiniest bit, and Jamie went on alert, as fascinated with her as with the wild animals that often crept around outside his cabin. He shouldn’t be.
    Now that she’d eaten and had some sleep, he should probably get her out of his home and away from his life. If he took her down the mountain to Clint, or to Joe or Bryan, or hell, even Alyx, they’d help him.
    If he told them to run her out of town, they would.
    But Jamie sat there in the chair, his feet and chest bare, his heart beating a slow, steady rhythm.
    Curled on her side, facing him, Faith exuded peace.
    Jamie tipped his head, studying the shapely line of her body: the dip in her waist, the rise of her full hips, and the slope of her long thighs. He considered the way his shirt hung on her narrower shoulders, the way her breasts filled out the front. Thinking about the warmth of her