Free Jamie by Lori Foster Page A

cursed with psychic ability was one thing. Being cursed with Faith was overkill.
    Striving for a calm that remained just out of reach, Jamie asked, “How bad are you hurt?”
    She said, “I ... I don’t know. My leg ... I’m afraid to move it.”
    Her thoughts were blessedly free, and Jamie registered her alarm, her very real pain. And her relief.
    It was the relief that got to him and sparked his temper back into an inferno. If she hadn’t injured herself, he’d give that upturned bottom a sound ... No, don’t go there. His hand and her butt should never make contact, no matter how appealing the idea might be.
    Jamie carefully inhaled and exhaled until he could speak without giving away his level of frustration and desperation. Injecting just the right amount of disdain, he pointed out, “There’s no reason to get too happy with yourself, Faith. Injury or not, I can still carry you off the mountain.”
    She said nothing to that.
    â€œIt’ll be light out very soon. The rain is letting up some. I know these woods like the back of my hand. There are plenty of passable trails, plenty of ways—”
    â€œPlease don’t make me leave, Jamie. Please.”
    Jamie wasn’t a man given to theatrics, not since that awful day when Delayna had turned his world upside down and revealed him for less than he’d always believed himself to be. Not since the day he’d almost torn the lab apart, acting more the animal than a civilized man.
    He felt every bit as volatile now. He wanted to snarl. He wanted to punch a hole in the wall, and he wanted to stroke Faith’s ass, to spread her legs and look at her again, kiss her, do a number of sensual, intimate things to her.
    If he didn’t get it together, he’d end up hyperventilating on all his deep breaths.
    Squeezing his eyes shut, Jamie counted to ten, then opened them again. “We can’t stay like this.” With you laying on top of me and turning me on and making me forget everything but my desire to fuck you. “I’m going to move you.”
    Filled with trepidation, Faith nodded. “Okay.”
    Jamie slid one hand around her upper arm and curved the other over the top of her thigh, just beneath a soft, pale cheek. He gave in to one slow, easy caress, then got himself together again. “Easy now. ”
    As gentle as he could be, Jamie rolled Faith to her back. Discomfort washed the color from her cheeks. Her shoulders rested on the floor perpendicular to him, but one of his legs was still under hers, which raised her pelvis like an offering.
    Jamie stared at the sexy curve of her belly, the tight curls covering her mound, and wondered if any man anywhere had ever found himself in such an untenable position.
    Then his gaze came back to her belly. Smooth, firm, and almost concave between her sharp hipbones. His brows came down, and more suspicions crowded in.
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    The hard, cold floor did not make a comfortable place for conversing. But Faith accepted the reprieve without complaint. She’d stay on a bed of nails if it’d keep Jamie from throwing her out.
    Watching the conflicting emotions in his beautiful dark eyes, she said a prayer of thanks that, for whatever reason, her body appealed to him.
    He stared at her belly so long, his face a mask, that Faith held her breath. Good grief, he unnerved her. If only she could know his thoughts as easily as he knew hers.
    His hand hovered over her abdomen until, with slow precision, he tugged the hem of the flannel shirt down to cover her. Faith couldn’t look away from his face, and she didn’t care if he read her mind. None of that mattered now. Not with him so wounded.
    Black eyes flashed at her, narrow and mean. But all he said was, “You’re okay?”
    â€œI think so.” But for good measure, she tacked on, “It probably isn’t broken, but it hurts.”
    Jamie gave his attention back to her