Read Online The Savage Heart by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online

in it this time.”
    â€œDid he?” Matt asked with a faint smile. “Feeling up to a question?”
    She nodded. Her lovely long blond hair was loose and hung over her shoulders like a cloud of gold. Matt stared at her appreciatively for a moment before he moved closer to the bed and looked down into her wan face.
    â€œThat young woman who goes to meetings with you, who is she?”
    â€œYou mean Nan?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHer last name is Collier,” she said in a strained tone, wincing as she moved her sore arm. “Her husband, Dennis, is a telegraph clerk somewhere. Why do you ask?”
    She didn’t know that she’d given him the information he wanted, without his having to pry it out of her.
    â€œI wondered if you might like to have her visit you,” he said, lying through his teeth. “She’s the only real friend you’ve made since you came to Chicago.”
    â€œThat’s nice of you, Matt,” she said. Her tongue felt almost too thick for speech. “But I don’t think her husband would like it. He’s very angry that she comes to our meetings, and forbids her to attend more than one a week. She has to sneak out if she comes to more than that. I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of her coming here.”
    Another wealth of information. He scowled as he saw her face contort.
    â€œIt must hurt a lot,” he said.
    â€œMy mouth is dry,” she replied. “Could I have some water, Mrs. Hayes?”
    â€œCertainly, dear. Here you go.”
    Matt took the cup from her with a smile. He lifted Tess’s head, his hand buried in that thick, silky blond hair, and he held the glass to her lips, watching them move weakly as she drank. Her hair felt soft, he thought, and her eyelashes were long and thick, too. Under them, her pale green eyes were the color of the leaves on the cottonwoods early in spring.
    â€œHad enough?” he asked.
    â€œYes, thanks.” She smiled up at him, but the look in his eyes froze the smile. She couldn’t look away. Even in her weakened condition, Matt at close range was overwhelmingly attractive to her.
    His face filling her eyes, his breath on her mouth, he eased her very slowly down onto the pillow. His eyes were black and unblinking. He hesitated there, the glass forgotten in his hand, as he searched Tess’s soft, shocked eyes.
    â€œMind that glass, Mr. Davis,” Mrs. Hayes murmured as she searched for her knitting needles. “I’ve already spilled one glass of water over her this morning and had to air the bedclothes.”
    He stood up abruptly, putting the glass down on the bedside table with too much deliberation. “She does look better,” he said after a minute. His voice sounded hoarse. Tess’s heartbeat was visible at her throat.
    â€œI told you so.” Mrs. Hayes chuckled. She took out her yarn and sat down in the rocking chair beside the bed. “Mrs. Mulhaney is fixing some nice chicken dumplings for supper this evening. Tess said she thinks she can eat something today.”
    â€œNot too much,” Matt cautioned. “She’s still pretty frail.”
    Tess smiled at him, all the fight gone out of her as the fever fluctuated. “Thanks for coming home to see about me,” she said. “When I get better, can I borrow your knife?”
    The unexpected question threw him off balance. “Why?”
    â€œI want to have a conversation with the man who cut me,” she murmured weakly. “You can hold him while I talk to him with your…your knife in my hand.”
    â€œTess, I’m shocked!” he lied.
    She chuckled weakly and closed her eyes. “Isn’t he lucky…that I was on the ground and helpless?” she asked wearily. “I still remember how to throw people. You taught me, remember?” She murmured softly in Sioux and Matt smiled.
    â€œThere she goes, babbling again,” Mrs. Hayes said with a