Free Her Defiant Heart by Jo Goodman

be good for you."
    Jane continued to stare at him, confusion and wariness darkening her eyes. She finally gave him a short nod.
    Christian sat down slowly and drew one bent knee onto the bed, twisting slightly toward her as he did so. "If you're worried about what happened earlier today, perhaps I can ease your mind. I don't hold it against you. All things considered, I thought you were rather intrepid. Oddly enough, I would not have considered that a quality I would discover in you, but there you have it. You are intrepid. Hold out your hands, and we'll take another measure of your courage."
    She hesitated. Her eyes darted over him.
    "Please? I really do want to help you."
    Two large tears formed in her eyes, and before she could blink them back, they slipped over her lower lashes and slid down her pale cheeks. Embarrassed, she turned her head away, and tucked her chin against her shoulder. She held out her hands in a gesture that was at once defiant and helpless.
    "Good girl," Christian said gently. He slid more fully onto the bed in order to reach her. With infinite gentleness he removed the damp towels from Jane's hands and then demonstrated how he wanted Jane to exercise her fingers. "Just like that," he told her when he caught her attention. "Not too quickly. Just enough to aid your circulation." He tossed the towels carelessly on the floor and took Jane by her chafed wrists, circling them lightly with his thumb and forefinger. They seemed incredibly fragile to him. He turned her hands first one way, then the other, checking them for broken blisters. "You're going to be all right, you know," he said, wanting to believe it was true. "You're lucky. Liberty brought you here in time. She took you right to the stables where Joe found you." He released her wrists and watched her withdraw her hands and cross them modestly against her chest. To Christian it seemed an odd thing to do. It had not been so many hours ago that she had pressed her body intimately to his. She was full of interesting, intriguing contradictions. He wondered if she was even aware of them.
    "That nightshirt is perfectly respectable," he said, not quite able to mask his grin. "It seems of late that I'm sharing a great deal of my wardrobe with you. Ah, you blush, as well you should." He smiled more openly to take away the sting of his words. "You took terrible advantage of me earlier. I, on the other hand, gave you over to the tender ministrations of my housekeeper." Christian had no regrets over the lie when he saw relief clear her clouded eyes. "May I remove the towels from your feet?" he asked, edging the tangle of sheets and blankets over her knees. Christian thought his question and his movements were casual, but his guest took almost immediate exception. She skittered away from him, drawing her knees to her chest. As a result, she lost the protection of the blankets, but she also removed herself from his easy reach.
    "Would you like to remove the towels yourself?" he asked. "The way you're sitting now is putting too much pressure on your feet. Dr. Turner is going to skin me alive if you hurt yourself. Why don't you stretch your legs?" Christian could tell that she wanted to. There were clear signs of pain in the tight set of her mouth and in her pale, waxy complexion. He glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the mantelpiece. Where the hell were Scott and Mrs. B.? He considered ringing for them, but he was afraid to leave the bed. Given Jane's fragile state of mind, he thought it was too likely that she would take the opportunity to get out of bed herself. She did not seem to fully comprehend there was any danger to herself other than the danger she attributed to his presence. Christian could not help wondering what it was she expected him to do.
    "I would appreciate some reassurances on your part, Jane," he said.
    She stared at him, uncertainty giving rise to a small vertical crease between her eyebrows. Her beautifully molded lower lip trembled