Jo Beverley - [malloren]
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“Brand swept her into his arms and laid her on the big old bed, his heart pounding with panic and guilt.
Tapping her cheek, he said, “Rosie?” finding her name awkward on his tongue. It was his lady, though. This was the body he knew so well, the face he’d sensed beneath the mask.
His Delilah. The woman who’d tricked, drugged, and used him. Bitterness and anger, however, were melting away.
He saw something on his fingers. Rubbed them together. Grease?
Then he realized that the right side of her f...ace was painted. Looking closer, he thought he saw marks underneath.
He went to the washstand, dampened a cloth, and came back to rub at the paint. Her eyelids fluttered, and she put up a weak hand. “Don’t.”
Ignoring her, he removed most of the thick paint, uncovering scars. A network of jagged purple scars ran beside her eye, one streaking down her cheek. He touched that, only able to think how painful and frightening it must have been at the time.
Her eyes opened, saw him, then squeezed shut as if she could make him go away.MoreLess
Tapping her cheek, he said, “Rosie?” finding her name awkward on his tongue. It was his lady, though. This was the body he knew so well, the face he’d sensed beneath the mask.
His Delilah. The woman who’d tricked, drugged, and used him. Bitterness and anger, however, were melting away.
He saw something on his fingers. Rubbed them together. Grease?
Then he realized that the right side of her f...ace was painted. Looking closer, he thought he saw marks underneath.
He went to the washstand, dampened a cloth, and came back to rub at the paint. Her eyelids fluttered, and she put up a weak hand. “Don’t.”
Ignoring her, he removed most of the thick paint, uncovering scars. A network of jagged purple scars ran beside her eye, one streaking down her cheek. He touched that, only able to think how painful and frightening it must have been at the time.
Her eyes opened, saw him, then squeezed shut as if she could make him go away.MoreLess
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