Read Online HerOutlandishStranger by Summer Devon - Free Book Online Page B

curve of her back as
she turned. Or he’d have a vivid flashback of a moment in the cave.
    Or he looked into her oval face and saw something that
almost made him lose his carefully guarded control.
    Those moments could flood him with longing that literally
robbed him of his breath. His body would turn to stone. He’d have to remind
himself to move or inhale again. Or when they hid, pressed close together, he
leaned his bare palms on the boulder until the rough surface bit his
hands—anything to overcome the craving to seize her and pull her to him. No, he
still was too aware of Miss Wickman but as the days passed and he grew used to
the often physically painful sensation, he could function better. And they
developed something of a companionship that eased the awkwardness. Much of the
reason she mattered to him was simple.
    He liked her, very much.
    He’d never felt close to a woman before. There was Rae, but
he was pretty certain Rae hooked with him because she’d been ghoulishly
interested in being seen in public in his company. She trolled for Truthies.
    Now, as he shifted his pack and Miss Wickman’s satchel to a
better position on his shoulder, he realized he couldn’t care less about Rae or
any other troller.
    Miss Wickman’s head was bent so he could not see her face.
Her steps dragged now. Of course she’d be tired. He’d almost been sprinting.
    Jazz forced himself to slow down. “Can you go another half
hour ’til lunch?”
    “Certainly.” Her voice sounded almost breathless, so he
decided to make it fifteen minutes.
    As they tramped in silence, another problem occurred to him.
While they were in Spain or Portugal, she didn’t question his presence. But
once they were ashore in her country, he’d have to find a good excuse to dog
her steps.
    “When we get to England,” he began.
    “Yes?” She looked up expectantly.
    Gah, now what would he do if she told him to get lost? He
had to make the question vague. “Well. I wonder if you would continue to allow
me to help you?”
    “I am sure I shall be fine.” She smiled and came so close he
could easily touch her, breathe her scent. Just the realization set off his
wild-state response. Did she notice her effect on him? She didn’t seem to as
she warmly went on, “But you know that you will always be welcome in my home.”
    “Thank you.” The tightness made his voice rough.
    He pointed at a low outcrop of rock. “Shall we stop for
lunch?”
    Just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, he decided to
look very thoroughly through all of the CR’s data for primary materials about
her journey through Spain. Was there mention of a man following Miss Wickman
and the protector?
    Nothing.
    He did another search, to see if maybe this time he could
spot his role in her life once they reached her home country. He already knew
he wasn’t going to stay with her forever.
    She would marry, of course.
    Every now and then, he looked up from the CR to scan the
horizon or watch Miss Wickman eat a lunch of olives, carrots and stale bread.
She sat on the blanket spread over a large, flat rock, her back held straight,
and he could see that as always, she forced herself to not gobble the bread in
her hand.
    As he watched, she closed her eyes and tilted her face into
the watery sunlight.
    “The sun is wonderful,” she said. “And I do not mind a few
freckles. Do you think freckles dreadfully unattractive, Mr. White?”
    “Course not,” he mumbled and wondered if she was flirting
with him.
    Her profile showed the outline of her face. Too thin, he
thought nervously. Her delicately cut features and her slender throat exposed
to the light seemed to make her even more unprotected. Though she never
mentioned hunger, he worried that the diet was not enough for a pregnant woman.
He slipped vitamins into her drinking water, but did not dare to do more.
    The sunlight brought out the soft auburn lights of her hair
that glowed even through the layer of dirt. He found it hard