Free The Lost Garden (The Lost Garden Trilogy Book 1) by K.T. Tomb Page B

as to its origins, but he liked it a lot.
    Now, she was doing something to the cut, applying the oil perhaps. He couldn’t tell and he didn’t really care. Her forearm brushed his cheek. Each tender touch sent uncontrollable shivers through him. Knight had always loved women who were lean and muscular. His dream woman had been lean and muscular. Now, here she was, standing over him, doctoring a wound she had caused. His dream woman. The very archetype of his ideal woman was in the flesh before him.
    Maybe I’m still dreaming, he thought. Maybe this entire night is a dream.
    A shot of pain raced across his forehead and he flinched.
    “Sorry,” she said, he could feel her breath on his ear.
    Nope, he thought, almost smiling. I’m not dreaming.
    Now, she was using the rag to gently wipe the blood from his forehead. Knight closed his eyes and this time, he did smile.
    Easy, Doctor, he thought. Get control of yourself. You need answers before you explore those feelings.
    “It is done,” she said and stepped away from him. He was sorry to see her go.
    “What is done?”
    She grinned. He loved her grin. She rarely grinned in his dreams. “It appears you won’t need stitches after all.”
    Knight frowned, then pushed himself out of the recliner and moved quickly over to the mirror that hung above his key ring rack. What he saw staring back at him, or more accurately, what he didn’t see, made him blink in confusion. The cut was gone. There was nothing there, save for a faint scar. He leaned in closer, rubbing a finger over the skin. Not even a bump.
    She stepped behind him. He could see her in the mirror and he could see a touch of humor in her blue eyes. “You will have a scar, unfortunately, Doctor. The oil is good, but it does not remove scars. Whether or not you choose to tell people that you received the scar from a woman is up to you. You could always tell them, I suppose, that you were in a sledding accident as a kid.”
    Knight turned on her. He had worked himself up. “I’m glad you find all this amusing, but the time has come for answers, sister!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her back toward the couch. She didn’t move and he lost his grip. It was like trying to pull a truck.
    “You wish me to follow you?” she asked innocently.
    This time he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Damn straight,” he said. She gasped with surprise, and he was shocked that she let him carry her and didn’t knee him in the face, or worse. He was still tender there from earlier. At the couch, he dropped her in the corner and she landed with a small squeak, glaring up at him. He was amused to see that her anger seemed forced. More startled than anything.
    “I have never been treated in such a way—”
    “Until I get some answers, get used to it, sister.”
    “I have killed men for far less—”
    “Shut your trap! I want you to listen to me!”
    Her mouth dropped open in shock. He reached over with his finger and gently closed her mouth. She was angry, but she remained quiet. He was glad she didn’t put up a fight.
    “Good. I want to know who you are. I want to know what that oil was that you used to heal my cut. I want to know why I’ve been dreaming about the Garden of Eden my entire life.” He paused, gazing at her beautiful face, a face he had never thought he would ever meet in the flesh. True, he had hoped and searched for her his entire life, but he did not think dreams really came true. Especially his. He lowered his voice and it trembled slightly with emotion, although he fought to control that. “Most important, I want to know why I’ve been dreaming about you ever since I can remember.”
     
    * * *
     
    Never in her life had she been literally manhandled. As he carted her toward the couch, slung over his shoulder like the Neanderthal he was, Jess could only conclude that it was a strange feeling to be at the mercy of someone else, especially a mortal male. Obviously, she could have done