Page 17 of Irish Thoroughbred

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He jerked back, and for a moment she feared he would brush her off like a fly and finish the man who now lay in a motionless heap on the stable floor. As he turned to face her, Adelia stepped away, frightened by his expression of rage. His face seemed to be carved from granite, his eyes steely blue and penetrating as he stared at her. She trembled at the strong, harsh mask and offered up a silent prayer that she would never have that deadly fury directed at her.

“Are you all right?” His voice was clipped, his eyes boring into hers.

“Aye.” She swallowed convulsively, dropping her eyes from his stare. “Oh, Travis, your hands!” Without thought, she took them in her own. “They’re bleeding; you’ll have to tend to them. I have some salve that’s—”

“Damn it, Dee.” He yanked his hands away from hers,taking her by the shoulders and tilting her head back so her eyes once more met the icy fury in his. He surveyed the torn blouse, the bruises already in evidence on the creamy skin, the rich hair tousled around her pale face. “How badly did he hurt you?” His voice was low and uneven.

Dee struggled to keep her own voice calm and not give way to the hysteria bubbling below the surface. “Not badly—he just frightened me. He only hit me once.” Travis’s face suffused with color, dark and angry at her words, his hands tightening uncontrollably on her shoulders. “Is he alive?” she asked, her voice barely audible. Travis let out a long breath, released her, and turned to study the crumpled form.

“Yes, more’s the pity. Heaven knows he wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t intervened. The police will see to him now.”

“No!” Her cry of protest brought Travis’s attention back to her.

“Adelia…” he began slowly. “The man tried to rape you, don’t you understand?”

“I know very well what his intentions were.” She hugged herself to control the spasmodic trembling assailing her. “But we can’t call the police.” She rushed on as Travis made no protest. “I don’t want Uncle Paddy to know about this. I won’t have him worrying and upset because of me. I’m not hurt, and I won’t have UnclePaddy upset—I tell you, I won’t!” Her voice rose, and he slipped a gentle arm around her shoulders.

“All right, Dee, all right,” he soothed, tightening his grip around her shuddering. “I’ll call a couple of men and have him taken off the property. No police.” He began to lead her from the stables. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

The room began to lurch sickeningly as a roaring sound filled her brain, the dim light ebbing until she could barely see. “Travis.” Her voice sounded strange and far away over the deafening roar in her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to faint.” As she spoke, the darkness closed in and swallowed her.

Adelia opened her eyes slowly, experimentally. There was something cool and wonderful on her forehead, and someone was stroking her cheek and speaking her name. She sighed and closed her eyes again, enjoying the new sensation of pampering, before opening them once more to focus on her surroundings.

The room was lit with a warm glow, the walls a cool, soft ivory trimmed with carved dark wood. She made out a wingback chair and a dark mahogany table on which stood an antique globed lamp that softly lit the room. Her eyes traveled over to the man who knelt beside her and rested on Travis’s face.

“I’m in the main house,” she stated matter-of-factly, and his expression of concern was transformed into an amused smile.

“Leave it to you not to say the usual ‘Where am I?’” He removed the wet cloth from her head and sat down beside her on the long sofa. “I don’t know anyone else who could calmly announce she was sorry, she was going to faint, and then proceed to do so.”

“I’ve never fainted before in my life,” she told him, mystified. “I’m sure I don’t like it.”

“Well, your color’s better now. I’ve never seen anyone go so white. You scared the daylights out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” She gave him a weak smile and sat up. “It was a foolish thing to do, and—” She stopped suddenly as her hand went to her throat, only to find the cross that always hung there missing. “My cross,” she stammered, looking down to where her hand rested. “I must have lost it in the stables. I’ve got to find it.” He pushed her back firmly as she attempted to rise.

“You’re in no shape to go out there now, Dee,” he began, but she cut him off, struggling against his hold.

“I’ve got to find it. It can’t be gone.” Her color had drained again, and he pushed her back on the sofa.

“Dee, for heaven’s sake, you’ll fall flat on your face.”

“Let me go. I can’t lose it.”

He tried to keep his words soothing, feeling helpless against her rising hysteria. He had seen her flaming angry and deeply moved, but never incoherently desperate,and he struggled to hold both her and his own temper in check. “Dee,” he said shortly, giving her a small shake. “Get a grip on yourself. It’s just a cross.”

“It was my mother’s. I’ve got to have it—it’s all I have left of her. It’s all I have.” She was trembling violently, and he drew her into the warm circle of his arms and began the ageless comfort of rocking.

“I’ll find it for you, don’t worry. I’ll go back and find it tonight.”

Resting against his strong shoulder, she felt strangely content, and both panic and the threatened tears dissolved. “Do you promise?”

“Yes, Dee, I promise.” He rubbed his cheek against the silk curtain of her hair, and she wondered suddenly what it was about a man that made it so good to be held by one—or was it just one man? Sighing, she allowed herself another moment’s luxury pressed against him.

“I’m all right now, Mr. Grant.” She drew herself away as far as his arms would permit. “I’m sorry I acted like that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Dee.” His hand lifted to brush back the full, thick waves that tumbled around her face. “And it was Travis before; let’s leave it at that. I rather like the way you say it.”

She felt her pulses respond to his soft words and gentle touch, her awareness of him growing until she thought her veins would burst from the pressure.