Read Online Beauty in Disguise by Mary Moore - Free Book Online Page B

through this? He had never tried before. Many times he had had the unpleasant duty of informing a family at the loss of one of their men, but he had thought himself to be detached. He was detached. Yet this young woman made him wish he had learned to comfort in a way that would heal her physical as well as her emotional pain.
    Slowly, and in the slightest of degrees, her sobbing eased and he realized that maybe time and a feeling of safety were all that he could give her. Maybe she had to let those inner demons painfully emerge, or she would have stayed in that shell as she had been on the bridge—shut out of the world and quickly building a wall to keep it out. This lovely woman had the presence of mind to release herself from a most dangerous situation before he had been able to do so. Now she was dealing with the emotional aspect of that action in a way more touching than he could have imagined.
    Her sobs finally stopped, and he thankfully felt the small stages of release as she relaxed her tightly wound body ever more as the moments passed. Her breathing finally evened for such a long time that had her grip not remained strong and tight on his lapels, he might have believed her to have fallen into an exhausted slumber.
    At this moment, however, he knew only aggravation, a futility that he could not carry her home in safety without breaking the peaceful and calming silence she had instigated.
    “I must get you home. You need to be warmed by a fire, and your poor neck must be attended to.” He felt her begin to tense, so he began his gentle ministrations again, rubbing her back and whispering softly. “We will go very slowly. I will not jar you more than necessary. But you must tell me where to go. You may then relax and think no more of it. I will take care of everything.”
    “No,” said the voice, so low he was not even sure she had spoken it.
    “I hope you know I would give all I own to be able to hold you safe like this, but you will catch your death and we must bandage your wound. I will not leave you.”
    “No,” she said again, shaking her head.
    Dalton sighed but could not resist her. For the second time in his life, he evidenced the power a woman could wield over a man. It was unsettling. He vowed no woman would break his heart as Kathryn had.
    She sat up and pulled back to look into his face. He thought she might regret being there with him, but he somehow believed she knew she would never need to be afraid of him.
    “Sir, I owe you my life,” she began softly.
    “No, I did nothing, you...” he began, but she stopped him with a hand to his lips.
    Her touch brought on the desired silence.
    She sniffled once again as he heard tears in her voice. He thought she was cried out. “I have nothing with which to repay you for my life, and even less with which to thank you for your...for this time. I promise you,” she continued, “I have never received such careful attention from another, and I will never forget it, never.”
    He lowered his eyes to her neck and tried to make out the seriousness of the wound. He thought it would heal with little care, but he knew it to be painful, nonetheless. He gently reached a finger up to touch it and felt the rhythmic pulse that beat so quickly as his finger rested there. She was not as brave as she let on; her fear was still present.
    She shook her head and brushed back his hand. “It is but a scratch compared to what could have happened. I will look upon it in the future and remember the blessing you have given to me instead of the horror of this night.”
    She slid out of his arms and faced him, but he kept hold of her to steady her.
    “You are correct, sir. I must go. But please, please accept my...heart...” she said intently, then looked away and cleared her throat, “my heartfelt thanks. I will never forget all you have done for me tonight.”
    A sudden gust of wind blew the branches of the tree, allowing the moonlight to shine on them, illuminating their