you, Jed. Did you hurt your leg?"
"No." He settled one heavy arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "The leg will survive. It's you I'm worried about. You feel like you've got steel wire running through you. All stiff and tense."
"It takes a while to come down off a nightmare." So far it had taken eight months and she was showing no signs of improvement. The thought of living with this tension for the rest of her life was appalling.
Surely it would begin to fade someday.
"Do you have a lot of them?"
"Nightmares?"
"Yeah."
Her head came up. "I'm a restless sleeper. I've told you that. Me and about thirty million other Americans. I have problems with insomnia and sometimes I get these dreams. It's no big deal. I'm sorry I alarmed you."
He patted her shoulder in an absently reassuring manner. "Don't worry about it."
Something about the casual way he said that made Amy ask recklessly, "Why? Have you been awakened by worse?"
He went still for an instant and then tipped up her chin so he could look directly into her eyes. "There isn't anything worse than a woman's scream in the middle of the night. Are you sure you're okay, Amy?"
She nodded uncertainly. She was vividly aware of his warmth and strength as he held her close.
He released her chin but kept his arm around her shoulders. For a while they just sat silently on the couch. Amy's breathing slowed to a more reasonable rate as she quietly absorbed the reassurance and comfort Jed willingly offered. When she felt the world had returned more or less to normal, she tried to ease away from him. "Thanks, Jed. I'm fine now, really I am. There's no sense in you losing any more sleep. Go back to bed."
"And leave you out here alone?"
"I'm used to being alone at night, remember?"
"Maybe that's part of your problem," he murmured. He shifted, turning toward her on the couch. Sliding both palms around her throat and using his thumbs under her jaw he carefully held her still. His fingers moved on the nape of her neck with subtle, massaging pressure.
She saw the kindling heat in his eyes and a new kind of tension coiled within her. Amy knew his look for what it was, and she wasn't at all sure she wanted to deal with it now. "You're used to being alone, too,"
she pointed out softly.
"So maybe we've both got a problem." He lowered his head and brushed his mouth lightly against hers as if he were testing the waters.
Amy stiffened in spite of herself. Water was a bad mental image under the circumstances. Jed felt her immediate withdrawal.
"Hey, calm down," he whispered. He cradled her head in one big hand and pushed her face gently against his bare chest. "It's just me."
"But I hardly know you," she heard herself say bleakly, wondering why she had said the words aloud.
They sounded silly, considering the relationship that existed between her and Jed. He wasn't the kind of man she wanted back when she was looking for a good, gentle, kind man to love. She wanted a man who had sunlight, not shadow inside; a man who wanted a wife and a mother for his children as well as a lover. And now she had Jed, a man who was still nearly a stranger to her after three months. Six months from now he would still be a stranger. He was a man who was as silent about himself as she was about herself. Perhaps they deserved each other.
"Hush, Amy. You know me. I'm your friend, remember? You're still replaying the nightmare in your mind, aren't you? Stop thinking about it. It's the only way to handle it." He kept her face pressed into the warmth of his chest while his other hand stroked her shoulder.
Amy shivered slightly in nervous reaction to his touch. He was right. She had to stop thinking about it or she really would go crazy. Deliberately she made herself concentrate on the warmth emanating from Jed's strong body.
It wasn't accurate to say he was a stranger because there were so many things she did know about him.
His scent, for instance. She inhaled deeply. She would know this scent
"No." He settled one heavy arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "The leg will survive. It's you I'm worried about. You feel like you've got steel wire running through you. All stiff and tense."
"It takes a while to come down off a nightmare." So far it had taken eight months and she was showing no signs of improvement. The thought of living with this tension for the rest of her life was appalling.
Surely it would begin to fade someday.
"Do you have a lot of them?"
"Nightmares?"
"Yeah."
Her head came up. "I'm a restless sleeper. I've told you that. Me and about thirty million other Americans. I have problems with insomnia and sometimes I get these dreams. It's no big deal. I'm sorry I alarmed you."
He patted her shoulder in an absently reassuring manner. "Don't worry about it."
Something about the casual way he said that made Amy ask recklessly, "Why? Have you been awakened by worse?"
He went still for an instant and then tipped up her chin so he could look directly into her eyes. "There isn't anything worse than a woman's scream in the middle of the night. Are you sure you're okay, Amy?"
She nodded uncertainly. She was vividly aware of his warmth and strength as he held her close.
He released her chin but kept his arm around her shoulders. For a while they just sat silently on the couch. Amy's breathing slowed to a more reasonable rate as she quietly absorbed the reassurance and comfort Jed willingly offered. When she felt the world had returned more or less to normal, she tried to ease away from him. "Thanks, Jed. I'm fine now, really I am. There's no sense in you losing any more sleep. Go back to bed."
"And leave you out here alone?"
"I'm used to being alone at night, remember?"
"Maybe that's part of your problem," he murmured. He shifted, turning toward her on the couch. Sliding both palms around her throat and using his thumbs under her jaw he carefully held her still. His fingers moved on the nape of her neck with subtle, massaging pressure.
She saw the kindling heat in his eyes and a new kind of tension coiled within her. Amy knew his look for what it was, and she wasn't at all sure she wanted to deal with it now. "You're used to being alone, too,"
she pointed out softly.
"So maybe we've both got a problem." He lowered his head and brushed his mouth lightly against hers as if he were testing the waters.
Amy stiffened in spite of herself. Water was a bad mental image under the circumstances. Jed felt her immediate withdrawal.
"Hey, calm down," he whispered. He cradled her head in one big hand and pushed her face gently against his bare chest. "It's just me."
"But I hardly know you," she heard herself say bleakly, wondering why she had said the words aloud.
They sounded silly, considering the relationship that existed between her and Jed. He wasn't the kind of man she wanted back when she was looking for a good, gentle, kind man to love. She wanted a man who had sunlight, not shadow inside; a man who wanted a wife and a mother for his children as well as a lover. And now she had Jed, a man who was still nearly a stranger to her after three months. Six months from now he would still be a stranger. He was a man who was as silent about himself as she was about herself. Perhaps they deserved each other.
"Hush, Amy. You know me. I'm your friend, remember? You're still replaying the nightmare in your mind, aren't you? Stop thinking about it. It's the only way to handle it." He kept her face pressed into the warmth of his chest while his other hand stroked her shoulder.
Amy shivered slightly in nervous reaction to his touch. He was right. She had to stop thinking about it or she really would go crazy. Deliberately she made herself concentrate on the warmth emanating from Jed's strong body.
It wasn't accurate to say he was a stranger because there were so many things she did know about him.
His scent, for instance. She inhaled deeply. She would know this scent
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