she’d done to civilize herself, she was confiding details of her past life to a man she knew nothing about.
A possible criminal.
Was that what made her open up to Callahan? Did they share a link based on their common pasts?
Beneath her fingertips, Callahan’s muscles bunched as she washed. Though he didn’t speak, she had the feeling that this man was as caught up in the moment as she.
In a stem tone, she said, “I’m very lucky to have people who love me, who think I’m better than I am. They’ve given me a lot, and Dan and Dr. Annie have always expected a lot from me in return.”
Callahan was listening intently. “Like what?” he asked.
She dropped the cloth in the pan and sat for a moment. “I was expected to learn, to do something with my life to help others. And”—she let out a sigh of exasperation—“to be a lady. I’m supposed to set a good example for my younger sister, Laura.”
“But you’re no more a lady than I’m a gentleman, are you?”
She cut him a quick glance. He wasn’t insulting her; he was just stating a fact. “You’re right. I’m not. I go around pretending all the time. But everyone can see straight through me, and I’m sure they’re laughing behind their smug smiles.”
“Look at me, Josie. Do I look like I’m laughing?” he asked softly.
Why was he doing this, forcing an intimacy between them that she neither welcomed nor understood? She didn’t like the panicky feeling that swept over her. She felt as if he was the only person who’d ever truly seen her. “No. I don’t think you are. You don’t know how to laugh.”
Josie reached for the dressing on his shoulder wound and jerked it off.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry,” she muttered and washed the healing wound.
He deserved a little pain for forcing her to bare her soul like that. She softened her efforts. At least there was no putrefied flesh. She rinsed her cloth and wiped away the soap, vigorously scrubbing his skin.
Callahan groaned. “I think you were wrong about your past, Miss Josie Miller.”
She looked up.
“You weren’t a pickpocket. From the way you’re going after my skin, I think you were a washerwoman. Stop pretending I’m a scrub board and you’re doing laundry.”
“I’m sorry, Callahan.” She applied her bandage, then slid her arm around his neck and beneath his back. “You’ll have to help me here,” she said, urging him to lift himself.
He gritted his teeth and complied as she tied the bandage around the shoulder with a strip of cloth.
“I’m simply trying to do what my mother would do,” she said, as she let him back down. The weight of his upper body pulled her forward. Her chin was only inches away from his lips. She could feel his breath against her neck and the wicked pulse of his heartbeat through her fingertips.
Slowly, she pulled her arm away and leaned back. They stared at each other, breathing deeply. She droppedher gaze to the bed, trying to break the connection that held them in an intimacy far too strong for her to understand.
But no sooner had her gaze landed on the sheet,
that
part of him began to rise.
She gasped and turned primly away. “And don’t you start that again, Callahan. It won’t work. I already know you’re a randy devil who can’t control himself when he’s around a woman—even when she’s only trying to help him.” She jutted her chin forward and left the room.
“Wait,” he called after her. “Please come back and move the basin so I won’t turn it over.”
She reappeared in the doorway. “It won’t tip over if you remain still.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not all of you is succeeding.”
He groaned. “It’s just that you have a way of tempting my body.”
“I do no such thing.”
“Well, maybe not you, maybe it’s your body. All I know is, mine seems to have a mind of its own.”
“Self-control. All you have to do is exert a little self-control. That,” she said sweetly, “will lower the pole. Without it, the
A possible criminal.
Was that what made her open up to Callahan? Did they share a link based on their common pasts?
Beneath her fingertips, Callahan’s muscles bunched as she washed. Though he didn’t speak, she had the feeling that this man was as caught up in the moment as she.
In a stem tone, she said, “I’m very lucky to have people who love me, who think I’m better than I am. They’ve given me a lot, and Dan and Dr. Annie have always expected a lot from me in return.”
Callahan was listening intently. “Like what?” he asked.
She dropped the cloth in the pan and sat for a moment. “I was expected to learn, to do something with my life to help others. And”—she let out a sigh of exasperation—“to be a lady. I’m supposed to set a good example for my younger sister, Laura.”
“But you’re no more a lady than I’m a gentleman, are you?”
She cut him a quick glance. He wasn’t insulting her; he was just stating a fact. “You’re right. I’m not. I go around pretending all the time. But everyone can see straight through me, and I’m sure they’re laughing behind their smug smiles.”
“Look at me, Josie. Do I look like I’m laughing?” he asked softly.
Why was he doing this, forcing an intimacy between them that she neither welcomed nor understood? She didn’t like the panicky feeling that swept over her. She felt as if he was the only person who’d ever truly seen her. “No. I don’t think you are. You don’t know how to laugh.”
Josie reached for the dressing on his shoulder wound and jerked it off.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry,” she muttered and washed the healing wound.
He deserved a little pain for forcing her to bare her soul like that. She softened her efforts. At least there was no putrefied flesh. She rinsed her cloth and wiped away the soap, vigorously scrubbing his skin.
Callahan groaned. “I think you were wrong about your past, Miss Josie Miller.”
She looked up.
“You weren’t a pickpocket. From the way you’re going after my skin, I think you were a washerwoman. Stop pretending I’m a scrub board and you’re doing laundry.”
“I’m sorry, Callahan.” She applied her bandage, then slid her arm around his neck and beneath his back. “You’ll have to help me here,” she said, urging him to lift himself.
He gritted his teeth and complied as she tied the bandage around the shoulder with a strip of cloth.
“I’m simply trying to do what my mother would do,” she said, as she let him back down. The weight of his upper body pulled her forward. Her chin was only inches away from his lips. She could feel his breath against her neck and the wicked pulse of his heartbeat through her fingertips.
Slowly, she pulled her arm away and leaned back. They stared at each other, breathing deeply. She droppedher gaze to the bed, trying to break the connection that held them in an intimacy far too strong for her to understand.
But no sooner had her gaze landed on the sheet,
that
part of him began to rise.
She gasped and turned primly away. “And don’t you start that again, Callahan. It won’t work. I already know you’re a randy devil who can’t control himself when he’s around a woman—even when she’s only trying to help him.” She jutted her chin forward and left the room.
“Wait,” he called after her. “Please come back and move the basin so I won’t turn it over.”
She reappeared in the doorway. “It won’t tip over if you remain still.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not all of you is succeeding.”
He groaned. “It’s just that you have a way of tempting my body.”
“I do no such thing.”
“Well, maybe not you, maybe it’s your body. All I know is, mine seems to have a mind of its own.”
“Self-control. All you have to do is exert a little self-control. That,” she said sweetly, “will lower the pole. Without it, the
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