Wild Burn by Edie Harris Read Free Book Online Page B

startle her, he lifted a hand between them. “May I?”
    She looked confused and slightly alarmed, but nodded anyway.
    Her silky hair stroked sensuously over the backs of his knuckles as he slid his hand between the mass of it and her pale throat. Lifting, he pushed the cool strands back over her shoulder and let his thumb tug gently upward on the errant locks covering her ear. Her left ear.
    Her left ear, which was pink and angry, but clean and showing no signs of infection. A small half-moon of flesh was definitely missing, right at the top of that delicately curled shell. “I won’t ever hurt an innocent again,” he promised quietly as he studied the wound. He wondered if it would’ve healed faster had the doctor attempted to stitch her up, but it was too late now, and she appeared to be taking hygienic care of the site. “I won’t, Miss Tully.”
    He heard her suck in a deep breath. “Thank you.” She made no move to pull away from him.
    He couldn’t help it. He let his fingers slide further into her loose hair to cup the back of her skull. His thumb stroked over the sensitive skin of her hairline, just above her ear, carefully avoiding the tender wound. Her body heat, her scent, twined around his senses until tension he didn’t know he carried left his shoulders and he could taste her, with the coffee and biscuits, on his tongue.
    He wanted to actually taste her on his tongue, but now…now was not the time.
    It wasn’t ever going to be the time.
    But he was still held in the grip of that rose-and-mint fragrance, and it wouldn’t let him go. Not without telling her, “You smell good.”
    “You smell…better than yesterday.” Her lips twitched as he drank in her pretty features. How long would it take him to count all the freckles on her face?
    At least an entire, uninterrupted night. From dusk to dawn. And then maybe to dusk again.
    So he released his hold on her and backed down the steps, promising himself he’d go to the Ruby Saloon tonight. He needed it. What he didn’t need was her . “Miss Tully.” Grumpy once more, he pulled his hat low over his brow.
    He caught a glimpse of her blue eyes staring down at him with more cautious warmth than he’d yet seen in them. “Mr. Crawford,” she replied, the lilt in her voice barely evident in the short syllables.
    That lilt rang in his ears for the rest of the day.

Chapter Seven
    She couldn’t stop thinking about him.
    Even sitting on a rough pine stool next to John White Horse’s bed, Moira couldn’t shake the image of Crawford’s scrubbed face and trimmed beard as he touched her.
    And that she’d allowed him to touch her so intimately… She had been struck by the thought that, though he’d shot her, she was safe with him. He wouldn’t intentionally cause her harm, hadn’t intentionally hurt her to begin with.
    She could still feel his hand curved around the back of her head this morning, holding her in place while he studied the damage he’d inflicted. She could still feel the heat of his breath against her jaw, making the invisible hairs on her skin stand on end. She could still taste the sharp scent of the lye soap that clung to his face and neck. She could still see the neat, short bristles of his nearly black beard, the revealed swarthy skin of his throat, the ends of his shaggy hair carrying the shine of cleanliness where it brushed the stiff collar of his coat.
    She had memorized him all over again, and it was so much more devastating this time. His pale jade eyes were just as compelling, as though he was able to peel past the layers of her skin and drill through the barriers she’d erected over her bones. Those barriers were for her own safety, but as she’d breathed him in, she’d wanted to let go. Relax. Release. She’d wanted to trust him to hold her upright and let him shoulder the burden of her past, if only for a few minutes.
    Moira needed a few minutes of respite.
    For a brief time on the front stoop of her cabin, he’d