Page 113 of Of Fate and Phantoms
"Remove your shirt," I ordered when I finished. At his hesitation, I added, "I won't ravish you."
"It's not you I'm worried about," he muttered.
I arched my brows but he didn't notice as he struggled to remove his shirt over his head.
"Allow me." I pulled the shirt up, revealing the dark bruises on his chest and stomach. "Oh, Lincoln. It must be painful."
He watched me carefully, as if he were unsure how to react.
I unscrewed the lid of the jar of salve and sniffed the thick, gluey contents. "It smells pleasant enough." I avoided looking at his face and focused on his shoulders and arms, gently dabbing the salve onto the bruises. When I got to his chest, however, I stopped. "It would be easier if you were lying down rather than sitting."
"You want me to lie on the bed?"
"The sofa isn't long enough."
"No."
"Why not?"
"You have to ask?"
My face flamed. "I suppose it is a little intimate."
"A little?" He grunted softly.
"You forget that I've seen you in your bed without a shirt on before."
"Don't remind me. I live with the guilt every day. In my defense, I didn't know you were a woman then." He stood. "This will do. Proceed."
I rubbed the salve into the wounds. They covered much of his torso, mostly the chest and stomach, but also covered his back. There was hardly an inch of him not covered in salve by the time I finished.
I concentrated so hard on the task, focusing only on the patch of skin where I worked, that I failed to notice his deep breathing until I stood back and admired my work.
"If you think this is any less amatory than lying on the bed, you're sorely mistaken," I said.
"That is your opinion." His raspy voice had me looking up. His eyes were shuttered behind their lids, his jaw set hard.
I wanted to stroke away the firmness. Wanted to kiss his bruises, and whisper his name in his ear. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair and feel his fingers in mine. And I knew, without a doubt, that he wanted that too.
I rested my hand on an unmarked area of skin at his waist. "Lincoln…" I murmured. "Kiss me."
Chapter 16
Lincoln placedhis hand over mine then drew it away. "No," he said firmly. "No kissing, no touching, no more of…this. It's too…" He heaved a sigh. "I can't."
I dropped my hand and lowered my head. It may have been a demure gesture, but my heart was anything but. It rampaged in my chest, giving me no peace. "If that's what you want."
"It's not what Iwant, Charlie. What I want is for you to put my ring on your finger. This will be done the proper way or no way."
He was fishing for an answer, but I couldn't give it to him. Not tonight. I searched for something to say to break the tension and finally found a safer topic. "Lincoln, we should talk."
He had been putting on his shirt, but stopped. "Yes."
"I've had a thought about the boys."
"What?"
"The boys. Mink, Finley and the rest of their gang."
