Page 24 of Charlotte's Kisses

“You are safe,” she whispered.

An almost imperceptible flash of white teeth indicated his smile. He clasped her hand and held it against his heart. “All the pain goes away.”

To think, her pianoforte and painting were abysmal. Unless one listened intently—and no sane person would do such a thing—her singing voice was easily mistaken for a fox in heat. She’d never had any talents outside of needlepoint, but her touch made him feel better. At least, he thought it did. Charlotte’s heart tripped over itself. She sat as still as possible until a gentle hum rippled from his lips. She extricated herself from his grasp, but only long enough to extinguish the lantern, toe off her slippers, and remove her hairpins. She’d never been able to sleep in the scalp-biting things. Crawling into bed beside Hugh, she slipped beneath the counterpane.

Charlotte wrapped her arms around his sleeping form. Holding him close, she closed her eyes and concentrated on sending him healing vibrations.

The gentle light of early morning shone through the window, dappling over Hugh’s rugged jawline. Dark hair covered his cheeks and chin. Even unshaven and bruised, he was beautiful. Using the back of her hand, she assessed his body temperature. She was no physician, but he did not seem to have a fever. Relieved, she brushed a finger over his eyebrows. Oh, how she liked them—thick, dark, and masculine.

His long lashes fluttered, and his eyes drifted open.

“Good morning,” she said.

He grinned, stretched long, and grimaced. “Good morn to you, little Firefly.” He winced as he pushed himself to sit.

“You are still hurting.” What a stupid thing to say. Of course, he was still in pain. He’d been beaten until his body was a mass of cuts and bruises. She’d let herself be carried away by the fantasy when there was no way that her touch held medicinal power. She had too much common sense to entertain the absurd notionone second longer.

“Not as much as yesterday,” he said. “You truly make me feel better. I probably need more Firefly tincture.”

Firefly tincture? What a silly man. But she’d play along. “Where do you still hurt?”

His bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout as he pointed to his swollen nose.

She turned toward him, tucked her knees beneath her, and then brushed her fingers over his nose.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled a contented sigh.

She brazenly leaned into him and grazed her lips over the bridge of his swollen nose.

“Ah, yes.” With his eyes still closed, he cradled her cheek. “See. So much better.”

“Where else?” she asked between her embarrassing titters.

He opened his eyes, caught her gaze, and tapped his cheek.

She playfully rolled her eyes, for she did not mind touching and kissing this man in the least. Being quite careful of the pressure, her fingertip trailed a swirly line over a purple bruise near his ear.

Since his guttural sound could in no way be mistaken for pain, it enthusiastically waltzed its way between her thighs.

She swallowed. “Where else?”

He tapped his lips as he stared at her with pleading puppy dog eyes. She met his gaze, but only for a moment before she dropped her focus to his mouth.

If there was the slightest chance she could ease the pain from the cut splitting his lower lip, she should. She’d be ever so gentle—as light as a feather—just a brief touch. Tilting her head to the side, she cautiously moved toward him until she softly brushed her lips over his—once, twice, three times.

“Your hair. It’s beautiful like that,” Hugh said.

Did he mean hanging loose and sleep-mussed?

“I swear to all that is holy, ‘tis goddess hair.” Threading his fingers through the strands at her nape, he tugged while pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. His scruff scratched her skin, reminding her that he was delectably male.

So much for her efforts to be gentle. Even in his weakened state he was all demanding power. Therefore, she would have to be the voice of reason.

Reluctantly, she backed away. “I do not want to hurt you.”

His other hand wrapped around her lower back, crushing her torso to his. “My tongue is not injured in the least.”

Almighty heaven. She whimpered.