Page 27 of A Kiss Of Lies

With a twinkle in his eye, he replied, “I already do!”

She blushed and decided to change the topic. “I have something for you that might help you. I noticed that your right shoulder pains you.”

He nodded slowly.

“I obtained some liniment from Mr. Pearson’s groom before I left. They use it on horses when they strain a muscle. It doesn’t smell particularly pleasant, but my father used something like this in winter after a hard day in the garden. It should help ease the stiffness.”

“You think it might help? The muscles have tightened terribly.”

“I’ll go fetch some and we can try it out.” Before he could argue, Sarah fled to her stateroom to retrieve the liniment. Never in all her life had she so strongly wished to help someone. He had wanted to end her pain, but she couldn’t allow that. However, she could help ease his.

He was pacing the main cabin on her return and swung to face her when she entered.

She indicated the chair by the open window. “Please sit and remove your cravat, waistcoat, and shirt.”

He did not move. “I—that is, perhaps Gareth would be more suited to applying the liniment.”

Christian never before had had any qualms about his nudity in front of a desirable woman. He’d stripped and bared his body numerous times, proud of his physique. But the thought of his twisted, disfigured body being bared before such a perfect woman, whose skin was like soft velvet beneath his touch, made him as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night.

She had her back to him and was already opening the jar. “Don’t be ridiculous! I’m perfectly capable of administering liniment.”

When he still hadn’t moved, she glanced over at him and straightened. “What on earth is the matter? I have seen men without their shirts before.”

“Not with wounds like these.”

“I assure you, it’s nothing I have not seen before.”

Christian gave a wan smile. She was right, of course. He reluctantly moved to the chair. “I warn you. I’m not a pretty sight.”

“I think you’re one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen,evenwith the scars.”

He swallowed hard. He’d love to believe her, but most women in England appeared to disagree with her. Not that he blamed them.

He slowly and carefully removed his upper clothes, while not daring to look at Sarah. He didn’t want to see revulsion or pity on her face.

He heard her indrawn breath as he pulled his shirt over his head, then felt her fingers gently trace the puckered flesh on his shoulder down to his torso.

“You must have suffered greatly. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He had suffered. But he’d refused to die and give his enemies the victory of his death.

For months he had relived the pain over and over nightly in his nightmares. But now, with Sarah in his life, instead of the pain he had something beautiful to focus on. And it made him even more determined to make her his lover.

He felt the coolness of the balm on his skin, and his nose wrinkled at its obnoxious smell. But it was the feel of her small hands roaming over his skin that had him gripping the sides of the chair.

Her touch wasn’t hesitant. Her strokes were firm and her fingers dug deep into the knots in his shoulders and arms. She didn’t go easy on him. Yet it was a very pleasant pain. She worked silently, and he finally stole a look at her face. Her lips were pursed in a determined line. Her blue, blue eyes weren’t filled with pity; they simply calmly checked over his scarred form, seeking out the most affected areas.

Soon both hands were working over the painfully taut muscles in his shoulders and upper torso. He watched her tiny fingers dig into his scarred flesh and couldn’t help but wish they were exploring more of his body.

What would her fingers feel like trailing down his chest, caressing his cock, cupping his sacs, before moving up to grip his shaft tightly and sliding up and down? She’d need both her hands to wrap around his member, and to stroke him faster and faster, while edging him ever nearer to the brink of orgasm. He instantly hardened at the thought.

He shifted painfully in the chair, his hardness pushing at the opening in his breeches. If she looked down, she’d see her powerful effect on him.

Her hands stilled, and she looked at him in concern. “Am I hurting you? Is it too much?”

“No. It hurts just to look at you. You’re so beautiful.”

She ignored his comment, working her fingers deep into the muscles. “How did it happen?”

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