Free Sinful Possession by Samantha Holt Page A

harmed?”
    “I’d bloody say so,” Harris
said through clenched teeth.
    “In the leg,” Ash said,
aware his voice was harsh and strained. “Your men should be careful. There’s a
madman with a rifle out there somewhere.”
    “My men are armed. If he is
still on my land, they’ll find him,” she assured him. “We need to get your
brother inside.” Anna turned to one of the men. “Take him to his room and have
the doctor sent for. With haste.”
    Between them, the two men
had no problems lifting Harris, though the pain in Ash’s leg throbbed in
response to his brother’s groans of pain. He helped Lila up, and she wrapped
her arms about his waist. He didn’t know if she was doing it because she was
scared or because he needed the support, but either way, he relished the sweet
warmth of her body next to his and wrapped an arm about her shoulders. They
followed the men back to the house, and Ash started his vigil by Harris’
bedside until the doctor arrived. The man sent them out until he’d finished.
    Ash paced in the corridor
and pinched the bridge of his nose. The pain in his leg began to subside but a
new pain started up—in his head. He knew well enough what that meant. Bloody
hell, a headache, now? The timing could not be worse. He needed to be lucid and
ready to aid his brother at any time, not laid low by a headache of all things.
    Lila held his hand while
Anna swung looks their way. Damn, as if Anna didn’t have enough to deal with.
Every move he made was one of error recently and now his brother was paying for
it.
    “He will be fine,” Lila
assured, squeezing his hand.
    He could not help be touched
by her selflessness. She must have been terrified. Perhaps it had even brought
back memories of the attack. And yet her thoughts were only of him and his
brother. It simply reminded him he did not deserve a woman like this. Kissing
her had been a mistake.
    One he would dearly love to
repeat over and over and over. But he would not. He had to have some kind of
control over himself.
    The doctor emerged from his
room, and they all rushed forward. “Well?” Anna and Lila demanded.
    The man gave small sound of
annoyance. “His leg should be fine. I’ve removed the bullet and as long as no infection
arises, it will heal. He shall need plenty of rest but the chances are he might
have a limp.”
    Ash grimaced. If his brother
limped for the rest of his life, he’d never forgive himself.
    “If he becomes hot or
restless, send for me,” the doctor continued.
    Ash turned away to try to
absorb the information. If infection did strike, his brother could lose his
leg. Worse, he could lose his life. As much as Harris failed to understand him
sometimes, he couldn’t imagine life without his twin. They’d been born together,
grown up together. All his childhood memories, and too many of his adult ones
really, involved Harris. His chest grew tight and the pounding in his head
worsened. His vision began to shimmer, and he cursed under his breath.
    Lila wrapped a hand around
his arm and coaxed him to face her. He could hardly make out her features past
the crescent of blurriness crossing his eyes.
    “He will be well, I just
know it.”
    He shook his head. Here was
a woman who had survived two murder attempts and still managed to stay positive.
He could not manage the same, particularly not with the pounding pain in his
head. For Lila, he had to stay strong. For Harris too.
    “Ash, you look pale,” she
commented.
    “I am fine,” he snapped. “Tell
my brother...Never mind. I’m going to my room.” He stormed off.
    How could he bear the two
women looking at him with such sympathy? Throwing open the door, he kicked it
shut and flung himself on the bed as his vision faded to a mess of movement
that made him feel sick. He twisted and reached for the chamber pot before his
stomach gave way, and he retched until it was empty. How could he have them see
him so weak when he was meant to be a strong, protective man?
    He