Free Wild Heat (Northern Fire) by Lucy Monroe Page A

yellow-tinted liquid in front of Caitlin. “I’ve made you some chamomile tea, dear.”
    “Thank you, Aunt Elspeth. You’re so thoughtful.”
    “Think nothing of it.” The older woman patted Caitlin’s arm.
    Guilt that her aunt had to make special efforts on her behalf washed over Caitlin. Just as quickly, she tried to let it go.
    Her therapist would have reminded Caitlin that she hadn’t asked for the tea. Aunt Elspeth had offered.
    “Where are you two off today, then?” Gran asked, coming into the kitchen, her bright blue eyes lit with curiosity.
    Aunt Alma never joined them for breakfast. She’d come down early for coffee and toast, which she’d take back to her bedroom for what she called her quiet time .
    “We’re going hiking,” Tack offered.
    “Yes, so our Kitty said.”
    Tack didn’t take the silent invitation to expand on his plans and Caitlin didn’t know them.
    Gran nodded, seemingly unperturbed by Tack’s reticence to share. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time.”
    “Don’t forget a warm coat,” Aunt Elspeth admonished.
    “She’s a grown woman, Elspeth,” Gran said with a shake of her head. “She isn’t going to forget her coat.”
    Aunt Elspeth didn’t look convinced of Caitlin’s skills at self-preservation.
    Considering she was spending the day with the first man to flip her switch of sexual desire in years, Caitlin had to wonder if the older woman wasn’t right to doubt her.

CHAPTER SIX
    T hey been heading north on Sterling Highway for about twenty minutes when Caitlin said, “Thank you for running interference for me in the kitchen.”
    She’d spent the drive thinking about the exchange and decided that was exactly what Tack had done.
    “No problem. Miss Elspeth wants to help.”
    “Her intentions are the best.” Which made it that much harder to tell the elder woman no.
    “They are, but she doesn’t understand just how delicate your digestive system has become.”
    “And you do?”
    “I read up on it.”
    “On…” She still had a difficult time saying the word aloud.
    He said it for her. “Anorexia.”
    “How did you know?”
    “Your aunt told me you’d dropped down to just over ninety pounds. I couldn’t figure another reason for that.” He sighed, his expression reflecting something she didn’t understand. Guilt? “You always stopped eating when you were stressed.”
    “That was how it started.”
    “But it turned into something else.”
    “I couldn’t always control what food was placed before me, but I controlled how much of it I took into my body.”
    “Or kept there,” he guessed.
    “Yes.”
    “How is that now?”
    She decided he meant the bulimia. “Better.”
    “Good.”
    “You’re not disgusted by me, by my weakness?”
    His brows drew together as he flicked her a quick glance before putting his full attention back onto the road. “Why would you ask that?”
    “I spent enough time repulsed by myself,” she admitted. Some days she still was, but she fought the feelings now. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were too.”
    Tack swore and then yanked the steering wheel to the right and pulled the truck to the side of the highway. He turned off the engine and took several breaths in silence, not looking at her.
    “Are we here?” She looked around but didn’t see the start of a trail anywhere nearby.
    She knew he liked to explore on his own but didn’t think he’d take her on that kind of hike first thing back. Tack wasn’t like Nevin. He didn’t revel in showing up other people.
    Finally, Tack shook his head and unbuckled his seat belt so he could slide his body toward her on the bench seat, shifting so he faced her. “Listen very carefully to me, Kitty. I want you to really hear what I’m saying, okay?”
    She nodded slowly, not understanding what was happening but knowing it was important to him from the expression on the face she’d missed more than any other in the last eight years.
    “You do not disgust me. I’m