Page 39 of Singing For His Kiss

Her wrist was locked in James’ hand and he stared at the bruises as though he was angry. God, oh God, was she that transparent? She had to pull herself together. She couldn’t tell him about David. Or what he’d done. What they’d done. She’d been so stupid to think herself in love. And now she was a felon, for Pete’s sake. A lawbreaker working with his daughter. The most valuable thing in the world.

And she’d nearly let James kiss her. Tempting. Too tempting.

A temptation almost too great to push away from. She’d wanted him to kiss her. To fold into his arms, press against his body and let him sweep her away. To taste him, feel his mouth covering hers. The desire she’d read in his eyes had almost undone her, had coaxed latent urges alive. He’d wanted her, and to top it all off, she’d wanted him just as desperately.

“Hell Elizabeth, no woman acts like this without a reason.”

Her heart raced. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She glanced at him. His mouth had hardened into a straight line, his brows pulled low over his eyes. He looked angry. A little wild. Scary. But she realised…she realised she wasn’t scared of him.

It took a moment to assimilate reason. She’d never come across this reaction in a man. James was upset. Yes. But upset on behalf of her. Not because of her.

When David had been mad at her, he’d hit her. Her jaw mentally ached from the last punch. The bruises on her wrist also left over from where he’d grabbed her when she’d tried to walk away. She stifled an internal shudder. That had been the worst argument. He hadn’t been just angry. He’d been insane, and she had feared for her safety, and worse. That’s why she’d run.

But she’d almost kissed James despite knowing she shouldn’t! He’d barely made a move, and look at how she reacted. She'd run from a monster into the arms of a good man who didn’t deserve any of the baggage she came with.

He pulled her to a stop with a gentle touch to her elbow, lifted her head with a bent knuckle so she had to look up at him. “If anything happens to you—ever—I want you to know you can come to me.”

“Okay,” she said slowly.

“Elizabeth. I mean it. No woman should be mistreated. You…should never be mistreated.”

He didn’t move, just stood there watching her. He was totally sincere. No calculating. Just complete and unfiltered honesty. Her world tilted, just that little bit more. He was one of the good ones. Henry, the owner of the ‘Wandered Homestead’, was like that, too. At first she didn’t quite know how to take him, always expecting an ugly side to rear up. But it never did. She guessed that was why she loved it there so much. For the first time in her whole life, she felt safe. It had finally felt like home.

It was obvious James was attracted to her, and she to him, but she would play the game and pretend ignorance. He deserved better. For a few days, she could do that. It would be her gift to him. He would never know how close he’d come to dodging a bullet. No matter how much that hurt.

She smiled weakly. “Okay.”

“Shall we go home?”

His gaze roamed her face. She worked hard to arrange her features into calmness, despite trying to push everything back down into the deep, black pit she shoved all things that were too hard, too painful. “Okay.”

She walked next to him, concentrating on keeping her face straight and all emotions tucked neatly away. Don’t show what you think. Don’t show what you feel. Don’t show weakness. It was better that way.

That knife that cut through her heart was just so damned painful.

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