Free A Christmas Affair by Joan Overfield Page A

restlessly on the pillow, recalling the dream where he had been back in that damned hospital in Spain. The doctors had him tied down and they were going to . . . He shook off the sickening memory, his gaze fastening to her face with a burning intensity. “What happened?”
    In the light of his stark plea there was naught she could do but give him the truth he demanded. “You were hallucinating,” she said quietly, tearing her eyes away from his molten gold gaze. “You thought I was going to hurt you, and you grabbed me ’round the throat. That’s all.”
    Justin’s eyes closed briefly, and when he opened them they held an anguish that made Amanda want to cry out in pain. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice strained.
    “Of course not! I told you, it was noth —”
    “Take off your scarf.”
    Amanda blinked at the terse command. “I beg your pardon?”
    “I said, take off your scarf,” he repeated, infusing every ounce of his considerable will into the command. He had noted the paisley scarf tied around her throat the moment she had entered the room, but other than wondering whyshe wore it in such an odd fashion, he hadn’t given it another thought.
    “Really, Colonel Stockton, you forget yourself!” She bristled, embarrassed and annoyed by his clipped order. “I shall do no such thing.”
    “If you don’t, I will” he threatened, his voice soft with menace. “I may be incapacitated, Miss Lawrence, but I’m far from helpless.”
    And so he was, curse him, Amanda thought, glaring at him with mounting indignation. She could see the power and determination reflected in the amber depths of his eyes and knew that he wouldn’t hesitate acting on his threat. Telling herself that she was only humoring a sick and sulky guest, she untied the scarf, exposing her throat to his intense scrutiny.
    “Oh, God.” Justin’s stomach lurched at the sight of the bruises marring her soft, alabaster skin. He reached out a tentative hand, wanting to smooth away the marks his fingers had left, but there was nothing he could do. His hand fell to his side, curling into a tight fist.
    “I’m sorry.”
    Amanda’s anger evaporated at his hoarse apology. “Don’t be absurd,” she said softly, retying the scarf about her neck. “You thought I was about to cut off your arm; how could you do other than defend yourself? Believe me, had I been in your place, you may be quite sure I would have fought like the very devil.”
    “I make no doubt of it, ma’am,” Justin replied, grateful for her wry humor. “You struck me as a most formidable woman from the first moment I clapped eyes on you.”
    “Ah yes, the veriest virago, or so Daniel always called me.” Amanda laughed, her face softening at the thought of her younger brother’s relentless teasing. Then another thought came to mind, and her smile faded as she met Justin’s eyes. “He. . . he wasn’t operated on, was he?” sheasked, her voice shaking with horror. “Williams described those dreadful hospitals in Spain, and I have been picturing him—”
    “No,” Justin interrupted, and this time when he reached out a hand, it closed comfortingly around hers. “No,” he repeated gently, his eyes gazing deeply into hers. “He died on the battlefield. He was at peace, and his last thoughts were of you.”
    Speech was impossible just then, and so Amanda simply returned the pressure of his warm hand, blinking rapidly against the tears that scalded her eyes.
    “Jeremey tells me Daniel’s services are to be held on Thursday,” Justin continued, wisely giving Amanda time to compose herself. At her silent nod he added, “Here?”
    “At Godstone.” Amanda found her voice at last. “It is the nearest village.”
    “I had thought to leave on the morrow,” he continued, rapidly adjusting his schedule in light of his promise to the boys. “But I suppose ’tis possible to delay my departure for a few days, provided the weather is cooperative,” he added,