Free Wild about the Witch by Cassidy Cayman Page B

turned and saw the state of her gown, her jaw dropped.
    “Tell me what happened at once,” she said, looking as if she was about to call forth an army.
    Lizzie shook her head miserably. Bugger it all. “Nothing, really. It’s my own doing.”
    “Are ye in love with Quinn?” Bella asked, once more flooring her with her uncanny ability to see what was going on.
    “How do you know everything?” Lizzie wailed, sitting on the bed.
    Bella tutted and sat beside her. “Because I observe everything. I dinna used to. But it became useful, especially since every once in a while someone wants to murder my husband or kidnap my children. Aye, it’s no garden of roses being the lady of this place.” She patted Lizzie’s knee and smiled. “And because ye acted like ye were in love with him. Dinna feel bad about it. He’s difficult to resist, or so I recall the last time he stayed here. Someone stabbed him, but I dinna remember if it was over a wife or a daughter.” Bella stopped speaking and frowned. “This isna making ye feel any better is it?”
    Lizzie shook her head. “Might I have some sewing things to mend my dress?” she asked. “My other clothes got left behind.”
    She didn’t want to think about Quinn, or the fact that she was another of a long list. She thought of London, and his avowal of love. That had been real. It had.
    “Aye, we shall get your gown mended and get ye a new one to wear in the mean time. I’d love to stay and hear everything that’s happened, but my wee lad is ill, and I canna be away from him any longer.”
    “Thank you,” Lizzie sniffled.
    “Ye’ll be fine,” Bella said, already half out the door. “Three doors down, if ye need anything.”
    Lizzie easily shrugged out of her ruined dress and wormed her way under the covers. Thankfully, the exhaustion from the long, terrible week put her straight to sleep, so she didn’t have to lie there long, still feeling Quinn’s hands on her skin.

    ***

    Quinn held his arm close to his chest and tried to get comfortable. Though his shoulder throbbed mercilessly, his conscience was what kept him awake at the moment. What had he done? Been a damn fool and gone against everything he promised himself. All he’d wanted to do was bring Catie home and get Lizzie back to her own time so she could quit tormenting him. He was going to be kind, but aloof. He most certainly was not going to touch her. He hadn’t accounted for her touching him.
    When he woke up in the forest with his shoulder on fire, she’d been so concerned he almost believed she cared for him. He had to remind himself that anyone with the barest amount of humanity would be concerned about someone who’d been shot. Hell, even Oliver had poked at him to make sure he was still alive. But she’d kept acting concerned, all the way back to the castle, and into his room, and her hands were so soft … God, he was an idiot.
    He’d gone completely blind and stupid with lust. And it wasn’t as if his shoulder didn’t hurt the entire time. He really thought he was going to die for a while, but he still couldn’t stop himself. Not when she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. When she blinked down at him and whimpered his name, he would have taken another bullet in his other arm only to be with her. For those moments when their lips and hands and bodies had touched, everything had been perfect.
    He sighed, and unable to roll over, stared morosely at the dark beams that crossed the ceiling. Lizzie had fled in such a hurry she hadn’t blown out the candle and he was too tired to get up and do it himself. He watched the light flicker over the beams and felt guilty on top of feeling foolish.
    Her damn happiness afterwards had done something to him, made him recall how happy he’d been when he thought she loved him, only to have his heart smashed. He’d acted brusque, maybe even cruel, because he knew if he let her stay with him, his heart would be lost again. He didn’t believe for a