Page 46 of Lesson In Faith

Rejecting her would do the one thing he wanted to prevent at all costs.

Merrick snorted at his own stupidity. Why the hell was he thinking about rejecting her at all when his own heart was so tied up in her, he’d have to incinerate it to even begin getting over her? Razing it to ash probably wouldn’t work anyway—she was too rooted everywhere else, wasn’t she?

She only needed to be in the same room for his skin to prickle with awareness and the hairs on his arms and neck to rise. The simple touch of her hand on his arm made his muscles tighten as though he’d stuck his finger into a mains socket. The noises she made as she tried to regain her voice brought his cock standing to its full, throbbing capacity.

Christ, he’d masturbated in the shower, ejaculating over the wall, with only her eyes as his fantasy.

He was beyond obsession with her; he was in over his goddamn head.

“Uh oh, I recognize that look.” Slapping him on the back, Grit raised his eyebrows. “Just figured it out, huh?”

There was no point denying it. “Guess I did.”

“Not that you’re asking, but I think she suits you. Loving a woman changes a guy on a basic level anyway, brings out our primal, possessive instincts, but something switched in you over the past month. Looks good on you, buddy.”

Merrick grunted.

Checking his watch, Grit lifted a shoulder. “I start at six—want me to cover your last half hour? She’s been on her own all day; must get lonely for her.”

“Gonna take you up on that offer. Thanks.”

“Have a good night, Co—”

Merrick jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t.”

After welcoming Liam and his family home, congratulating them on their wedding, Merrick headed for the door.

Tonight, he and his little owl were moving forward.

*

Tamsyn

Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, she studied herself.

After spending the afternoon watching an eye-opening movie with lots of bare skin and hands-on action, she was all kinds of tingly and not a little curious about her own body for once.

All in all, she wasn’t repulsed by herself, which was something. Her bones were no longer poking from beneath her skin, or not as horribly, anyway. Being made to eat on a regular basis—Merrick’s dark stare wasn’t to be argued with—was putting weight on slowly, and because she wasn’t exerting all her energy on a mountain of chores for her father, she was keeping it on.

She even had breasts now. Well, sort of, she supposed, laying her hand over one. They weren’t flat, but they weren’t full like the woman’s on screen. In the movie, the guy had been pulling and pinching her nipples, sucking on them until the woman moaned.

Experimentally, Tamsyn tugged on her own pink bud, frowning when nothing happened. The nipple firmed, but even when she pinched it, she found there was no reason to moan.

Huh. Maybe they were defective.

Her shoulders slumped. Merrick really would refuse to do anything naked with her if she was defective. Although, she supposed what her body did or didn’t do wouldn’t have any effect on what his did, right?

Jedidiah often explained that a wife was in her husband’s bed for his pleasure, not hers.Hewas the one who needed to be satisfied in order to be a pillar of the community.Hewas the one whose reputation rose or fell depending on how well his wife pleased him; the trade he’d made for that wife was only considered successful if he was happy.

She stroked her hand down her stomach. The many bruises were mostly gone, although a couple of the worst ones were still vaguely visible in pale shades of green and yellow.

Merrick had removed the stitches in her flesh when she was sleeping, leaving behind faint scars from her clumsiness. She should probably use them as a reminder not to run blind through a forest, but she couldn’t promise not to do so again if it was necessary.

Better to be cut and bruised than strangled by a husband.

If her breasts were faulty, there was likely no hope for the spot between her legs.

Staring down at the brown curls at the apex of her thighs, she hesitated before running her fingers through them. They were soft and dense, not short and trimmed like the movie lady’s. Did men like them that way?

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