Read Online Child Bride by Suzanne Forster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Forster
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blue eyes and nodded slowly.
“You mean it? Because once I let go, you’re on your own.”
Her response was another slow-motion nod, which Chase decided to take as a yes. He released her, unprepared as she actually sagged to the floor in a graceful heap.
Well, she wasn’t faking it. With a taut sigh and a slow head shake, Chase stared down at her soft, crumpled form, wondering what he was going to do with her. With her arm flung out to her side, she looked fragile and very much abandoned, like an old-fashioned doll that some careless youngster had grown tired of and tossed away.
There was something about the woman lying at his feet, Chase realized, that caused bittersweet feelings to grow in him. Something almost heartbreaking written in her odd, delicate features, perhaps even in her nature. “Oh, Miss Annie,” he said, his voice suddenly low and grating, “why do I have the feeling you’re going to be the undoing of us both?”
She stirred as he knelt to pick her up. “Chase?” she said, rousing in his arms as he carried her to the cot.
“Easy does it.” He settled her on the small bed and pulled the quilt snugly around her, hushing her as she tried to convince him that she was fine. “What you need is some food, Missy. How long since you’ve had a decent meal?”
Annie didn’t have the energy to answer him, or to argue with him, for that matter. She could hardly keep her eyes open, much less try to persuade him that she really did want to make love with him, however unlikely that might appear. She’d known this day of reckoning was coming. A body could only endure so much punishment, and she’d pushed hers unmercifully.
She was pleasantly aware of Chase’s touch as he patted her legs dry with the quilt material. He had a surprisingly gentle way for a hardened bounty hunter, and she was beginning to wish he would never stop tending to her needs when the cot creaked mournfully and he rose, leaving her.
“Here’s a clean shirt,” he said, returning a moment later. “You can put it on when you’re feeling a little stronger.”
She opened her eyes, managing a nod as he laid a faded chambray shirt next to her. The wariness in his expression had been replaced by something friendlier, something that could almost have been mistaken for tenderness as he looked down at her.
Annie felt a welling of emotion that expanded oddly in her throat. “Chase, I’m sorry. I thought ... I didn’t know I’d be causing all this trouble.”
“No trouble,” he said. “I think I can feed you without putting myself out too much.”
He touched a forefinger to her face, just a fleeting stroke of kindness, but the gesture sent a rush of longing through Annie that was sharp and poignant. Some tiny blaze that had been kindling in her breast all those years flared higher, reaching out for his life-giving tenderness as though it were oxygen. Tears stung at her eyelids as she quickly squeezed them shut, uttering the only words she could manage: “Thank you.”
Some time later, she wasn’t sure how long, the delicious smells of frying meat, onions, and potatoes stole into her consciousness, awakening her. Chase stood at the two-burner stove, his back to her as she opened her eyes. He had a couple of cast-iron skillets going, and they were both sizzling and sending up clouds of steam.
Her mouth began to water, and her stomach seized up painfully, closing on its own emptiness. Fighting off dizziness, she pushed herself to a sitting position and stayed there a moment until she felt steady enough to try to change into the shirt he’d left her.
It took considerable effort to peel off the damp shift and fumble her way into the shirt, particularly since she was determined to do it within the tentlike confines of the quilt. She had no desire to distract Chase. Now that she’d had a whiff of real food, the only sort of consummation she was interested in was at the dining table.
First things first, she told herself,
“You mean it? Because once I let go, you’re on your own.”
Her response was another slow-motion nod, which Chase decided to take as a yes. He released her, unprepared as she actually sagged to the floor in a graceful heap.
Well, she wasn’t faking it. With a taut sigh and a slow head shake, Chase stared down at her soft, crumpled form, wondering what he was going to do with her. With her arm flung out to her side, she looked fragile and very much abandoned, like an old-fashioned doll that some careless youngster had grown tired of and tossed away.
There was something about the woman lying at his feet, Chase realized, that caused bittersweet feelings to grow in him. Something almost heartbreaking written in her odd, delicate features, perhaps even in her nature. “Oh, Miss Annie,” he said, his voice suddenly low and grating, “why do I have the feeling you’re going to be the undoing of us both?”
She stirred as he knelt to pick her up. “Chase?” she said, rousing in his arms as he carried her to the cot.
“Easy does it.” He settled her on the small bed and pulled the quilt snugly around her, hushing her as she tried to convince him that she was fine. “What you need is some food, Missy. How long since you’ve had a decent meal?”
Annie didn’t have the energy to answer him, or to argue with him, for that matter. She could hardly keep her eyes open, much less try to persuade him that she really did want to make love with him, however unlikely that might appear. She’d known this day of reckoning was coming. A body could only endure so much punishment, and she’d pushed hers unmercifully.
She was pleasantly aware of Chase’s touch as he patted her legs dry with the quilt material. He had a surprisingly gentle way for a hardened bounty hunter, and she was beginning to wish he would never stop tending to her needs when the cot creaked mournfully and he rose, leaving her.
“Here’s a clean shirt,” he said, returning a moment later. “You can put it on when you’re feeling a little stronger.”
She opened her eyes, managing a nod as he laid a faded chambray shirt next to her. The wariness in his expression had been replaced by something friendlier, something that could almost have been mistaken for tenderness as he looked down at her.
Annie felt a welling of emotion that expanded oddly in her throat. “Chase, I’m sorry. I thought ... I didn’t know I’d be causing all this trouble.”
“No trouble,” he said. “I think I can feed you without putting myself out too much.”
He touched a forefinger to her face, just a fleeting stroke of kindness, but the gesture sent a rush of longing through Annie that was sharp and poignant. Some tiny blaze that had been kindling in her breast all those years flared higher, reaching out for his life-giving tenderness as though it were oxygen. Tears stung at her eyelids as she quickly squeezed them shut, uttering the only words she could manage: “Thank you.”
Some time later, she wasn’t sure how long, the delicious smells of frying meat, onions, and potatoes stole into her consciousness, awakening her. Chase stood at the two-burner stove, his back to her as she opened her eyes. He had a couple of cast-iron skillets going, and they were both sizzling and sending up clouds of steam.
Her mouth began to water, and her stomach seized up painfully, closing on its own emptiness. Fighting off dizziness, she pushed herself to a sitting position and stayed there a moment until she felt steady enough to try to change into the shirt he’d left her.
It took considerable effort to peel off the damp shift and fumble her way into the shirt, particularly since she was determined to do it within the tentlike confines of the quilt. She had no desire to distract Chase. Now that she’d had a whiff of real food, the only sort of consummation she was interested in was at the dining table.
First things first, she told herself,
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