Jamie Read Free

it.”
    â€œNeither will you.” He smelled of wind and rain and man, strong and mysterious—and more than capable of any number of things, good and bad.
    Because she’d allowed those thoughts to ring clear in her mind, Jamie stalled. The sense of danger darkened his eyes even more. “You know me?”
    Faith tried to still the trembling of her limbs. “Yes.” Naturally seeking his heat and strength, her naked body pressed closer to his. She should give him her name, but not yet.
    â€œWhy?” As he asked it, his fingers sifted through her tangled hair, searching her scalp, rough fingertips exploring each ear, along her nape and under her chin.
    â€œYou don’t trust me.”
    â€œI don’t trust anyone.”
    Faith closed her eyes when his warm hand moved down her body, under each arm, beneath the fullness of each breast. Her nipples tightened from the cold, and her skin prickled with goose bumps. She felt ultrasensitive, horribly exposed.
    â€œI don’t remember you,” Jamie told her, still staring at her face, his voice low and moderate while he touched her. Everywhere.
    â€œThat’s okay.” She swallowed audibly and began to shake more. “I know ... know you can’t, won’t, take my word for it. But I’m not bugged.”
    â€œYou could have a device on you and not even know it.” His deep voice held no inflection, no emotion. “Who sent you here?”
    She shook her head fast, dislodging the thought before it could form. If he knew, all would be ruined. “No one who means you harm.”
    â€œYou know the people who would harm me?”
    â€œNo!” Oh God, she felt sick. Her legs wanted to collapse beneath her. “That is ... I know people who ... who care about you.”
    His expression didn’t change, but he might as well have yelled liar for all the stock he put in her statement. “You’d never have found my cabin on your own.”
    â€œI know.” Her heart clapped in time to the raging storm as his palm coasted over her behind, warmly palpating each cheek, slipping under, lifting—going between.
    Gripping him tight, she hid her face against his soggy shirt and prayed she wouldn’t embarrass herself by crying.
    Watching her, soaking up her every reaction, Jamie didn’t falter. He caught her right leg and lifted it high against his hip, catching it there with the press of his elbow, making the most intimate parts of her body accessible to him.
    The need to plead with him burned in her throat. But more than that, she wanted to beg for his help. She wanted him to care about her—about them.
    â€œShhh.” With his rough hand open on the cool skin of her belly, he whispered, “I’ll be quick.”
    And then his fingers pressed low, moving along the crease of her legs before going inward, sifting through her pubic hair. As unemotional as a doctor, he stroked along her damp cleft. His fingers explored, prodding between her lips, over her, into her for a brief but deep and thorough exam that physically burned and robbed her of all modesty, leaving her close to keening in frustration, humiliation, and more.
    His fingers felt big and hard, touching her in ways she’d seldom been touched. The idea of fainting to escape the inevitable appealed to her. Unfortunately, she remained cognizant of his every move, the watchful way he took in her every breath, her every shudder, how dispassionately he searched her body.
    Her breath chopped, bordering on panic, and her vision blurred....
    He withdrew his hand and scooped her up, carrying her to a short, stuffed sofa shoved up against the far wall. Faith didn’t meet his gaze when he set her on the edge of the cushions. Cold and desperation had her curling in on herself.
    But Jamie wouldn’t have that. He crouched in front of her, touched her chin, and brought her face around to his. His long hair hung wet down his back. His