The Men of Pride County: The Pretender Read Online Free Page B

the chill and the thin daylight. Once he’d targeted the bed, he let momentum carry him to it. The springs groaned under his abrupt descent and Garnet found herself pulled across his lap. Startled by the contact, she tried to lever back, but his arms remained about her, anchoring her there upon his knees. She sat stiff and still, engulfed by his size, by his heat, by his intimate proximity. For a long moment, neither of them moved. He was merely gathering his strength, she told herself. There was no reason to be alarmed—or to be charged with anticipation.
    Finally he leaned back, allowing her to slip from the circle of his arms. Thankfully, his eyes were closed, so he didn’t witness the way her knees knocked together when she stood away from him. Taking a deep breath, she returned to the matter of making him comfortable.
    To turn down the bed, she had to reach behind him. Awareness of him overwhelmed her once more. She’d been around so few men, and this one, by virtue of his courage alone, was enough to make her giddy.
    She jumped slightly as his uniform jacket hit the bed. Nervously she edged back to see him unbuttoning his long underwear. Her gaze riveted to the expanse of lightly furred chest revealed with the release of each fastening.
    “Could you help me with this?”
    “Oh … yes, of course.”
    She was slowly able to draw off the bloodstained garment, leaving him bare from the trouser band up except for the white swatch of her crude bandaging. Her gaze fixed itself upon his knees.
    “What else?” Was that tight-throated little voice really her own?
    When he didn’t reply, she was forced to glance upward. A small smile etched upon his weary features.
    “Just my boots, if you don’t mind.”
    A nervous smile released some of her tension. Just his boots. She bent to wrestle them off one at a time.
    When she stood, his figure slumped. His head bowed, his eyes closed, his exhaustion was plain in the droop of his shoulders. Garnet’s tender heart melted.
    “You rest, now. Get your strength back.”
    He needed only that gentle encouragement. When he started to lie back, the movement caused a grimace to twist his features. Garnet slipped her arm behind his back to support and guide him to the sheets. His eyes never opened, but as she pulled the covers up around him, he murmured a soft, “Thank you.”
    Feeling as though she should withdraw but unable to make herself take the first step away, Garnet watched him sink into a healing slumber. Only then did an important thought occur to her.
    “Your name? What’s your name?”
    She needed something to call him other than the impersonal moniker of “Sergeant.” Especially within the privacy of her own dreams.
    When he remained unmoving, she figured him to be asleep. Disappointed, she turned toward the curtained doorway.
    “Deacon. Deacon Sinclair.”
    Deacon .
    She smiled to herself, liking the way it settled familiarly within her mind.
    “Rest, Sergeant Sinclair.”
    She stepped outside the room and closed the drape. A sigh escaped her.
    Deacon .
    But he didn’t rest. Sleep couldn’t overtake the rapid turnings of Deacon’s mind. He glanced at the Union jacket she’d hung so respectfully on the bedpost. He was in and she didn’t suspect a thing.
    Once he’d gotten over his surprise that the occupant of the farm was a woman, he busied himself thinking how to use the fact to his best advantage. She was just a girl, really. A girl full of modest blushes and curiosity. A girl whose heart had beaten with untested passion as he’d purposefully held her near. The way to win her over was no mystery. He was halfway there already. This was her bed. There was no mistaking the herbal scent that clung to the pillows. The same fresh fragrance was in her ridiculously short hair.
    Soft hair, soft lips, soft shape easily molded to his own.
    He jerked his transgressing thoughts back to task.
    But, providing his intelligence was correct and that he was in the right