Free Passionate Vengeance by Elizabeth Lapthorne Page A

out a few barely suppressed chuckles.
    “That would have sucked if the bed had broken,” he joked. “Talk about mood ruiner. And then we would have had to somehow dispose of the frame because—well how could we have possibly explained?”
    Abigail wiped the sweat from her brow and reached for her lover. He pulled his cock from her, bent to quickly kiss her lips then stood up and crossed to the tiny sink in the far corner.
    Turning onto her side, Abby watched him with interest as he tidied himself. Lucas gathered a wad of paper towels and wet them before bringing them to her. Standing on shaking legs, she paused a moment to get her bearings, then carefully walked over to the basin to clean herself up. After doing the best she could, Abigail returned to their cot. Pulling on her knickers and T-shirt she dressed with care, not wanting to appear overly rumbled or as debauched as she felt. When she finished, she settled back on the cot. Lucas, wearing only his boxers, tugged her down into a spooning position.
    Knowing all too soon they would have to get up, dress and get back to the mountain of paperwork, Abigail just enjoyed the tender moment they shared. Her mind wandered, then she recalled the papers, prodding her brain back into the dream. Feeling lazy and sated while the musings of Dr Harper and his poisonous words still made her feel faintly ill, something niggled urgently in the back of her head.
    Frowning, she tried to bring the entire dream into focus, the fear and desperation she had felt making her shiver.
    “What is it, darling?” Lucas asked, his voice filled with concern.
    She shook her head but decided speaking of it might help the dream lose its sting.
    “That dream I had, the one you woke me from. Something about it is pricking my memory.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Lucas insisted. “I wasn’t just placating you. I meant it. I won’t let Dr Harper hurt you. I swear.”
    Abigail turned over in the slender cot. Lucas wrapped his arms around her as they shared the pillow and she held him tightly around the waist.
    “I know,” she replied. She looked at him a moment, drinking in how this handsome man held her and made the world feel so much brighter. She smiled warmly at him. “I believe you, fully. That’s not it. I was thinking of the paperwork we have waiting for us, and that reminded me that in the dream Dr Harper’s desk was literally piled with papers. It struck me as not right in the dream and I almost pulled out of it then, but his ego wall—all those diplomas and certificates and accreditation whatnots—that was all right and real and dragged me back in.”
    “I don’t follow.” Lucas frowned.
    Abigail realised he’d genuinely listened and wanted her to explain so he could follow her train of thought.
    “Something about that part of the dream is pulling on my memory, like it’s important.”
    “Okay then, describe it all to me, everything you can remember. Walking through it slowly and in such detail might jog loose whatever your subconscious is telling you.”
    Abigail described Harper’s desk in as much detail as she could manage. When she finished she shook her head with frustration.
    “That can’t be it then,” Lucas said with seemingly infinite patience. “Describe his ego wall now.”
    “Maybe I’m making too much of it,” she sighed.
    Lucas stroked her hair tenderly.
    “No, darling, we have as long as it takes. Now describe the ego wall for me. You said there were his diplomas?”
    “Yeah, a whole slew of certificates of different courses he had completed.”
    “Okay then, list those you can for me. And the other things you mentioned, his accreditations I think you said. Oh, and the certificates of thanks, too.”
    Abigail frowned, a tiny frisson of energy racing through her at his words. It jogged a memory right on the tip of her tongue. Lucas leant back and she basked at having his heated gaze upon her. She remained silent, mentally clutching for the knowledge