Passion Awakened Read Online Free

She glanced down at the lost utensil
then back to Creed. He was already up, his back to her, and heading toward the
door.
    “Thank you for the meal, Ms. Murphy. I’ll do my best to stay
out of your way and unnoticeable.”
    “Umm, wait.” Shayla jumped from her seat and rounded the
bar. He stopped in front of the door, pivoted, and his head craned in her
direction. “You didn’t answer my—”
    “No, we don’t,” he answered before she could finish her
sentence. “And I spent most of my life in central South Carolina.” Creed turned
back around before she could respond and opened the door. He started across the
threshold, then came to a halt when his knees buckled, his hands going to the
doorjamb for support.
    “Creed!” Shayla darted for him and circled her arm around
his torso. His body sagged against hers. Oh my God. Her heart raced. As one,
they shuffled back inside and over to the sofa. Sweat beaded across his
forehead, his breathing reduced to short pants.
    He plopped onto the seat and fell back against the cushions.
Creed lifted a palm and covered his face.
    “Shit,” he drawled. “I’m so sorry about this.”
    Shayla stood over him and rubbed her hands together as if
the action would somehow kindle an idea in her head of what to do. “Is it your
arm?”
    Creed shook his head. Well, more like lolled his head from
side to side. “No. Not really.”
    What the hell did that mean? “Maybe it’s infected?” She
leaned in and placed the back of her hand to his forehead. Creed dropped his
arm and gave her a glassy-eyed stare. “You feel warm.” She straightened, headed
for the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of pills from the shelf. After filling a
glass of water, she made tracks back to her patient. Shayla dumped two white
tablets into her palm. “Here.” She placed them and the glass in front of his
face. Creed reached up, grasped the medicine, tossed them in his mouth, then
gulped a mouthful of the water.
    “Thank you,” he mumbled, his eyes glassy. “If you don’t
mind…maybe I could,” he drooped onto his right side, “lie here for just a few
minutes.”
    “Okay.” His eyelids shuttered. “Umm. Sure,” she added. But
she had a feeling the words fell on deaf ears. Shayla tapped his shoulder.
“Creed?” He didn’t budge. “You okay?” She leaned in a little closer. His
breathing was nice and even. “Oh damn.” He’d passed out. Now what? “Don’t do
this to me. You were supposed to be gone. I’m supposed to be making headway on my
book, not nursing some guy who believes he’s a time traveler,” she groaned.
“You are so messing up my schedule.”
    Shayla grabbed him by the shoulders and repositioned him
onto his back, then shoved a pillow under his head. She stood back and crossed
her arms under her breasts, studying his profile. He was so pale. Alabaster
skin, raven lashes that brushed the high crest of his cheekbones alongside a
straight, aristocratic nose. Dark stubble shaded his jaw and above the full
curve of his upper lip. He kept his hair closely cropped to his scalp. The
midnight color of what covered his head and shadowed his face only added to the
fairness of his complexion.
    Striking.
    He was definitely a man worthy of a few girls’ late-night
fantasies.
    Giving herself a mental shake, Shayla blinked. She needed to
stop daydreaming and get him awake, back to his old self, and out of there. Her
life didn’t have room for this kind of stuff. Handsome princes who swept in
from faraway places to bring desire and romance to the lonely heroine didn’t
exist and lived only between the pages of one of her books.
    Besides, more than likely this guy was a nutcase.
    After a quick trip to her medicine cabinet, Shayla had put
together a few first-aid supplies. She pulled up a chair and placed a cool, damp
cloth to his forehead. Unbidden, her fingers trailed across his temple, then
down the length of his face. The coarse hairs of his beard pricked her
fingertips, sending a