Eight

Isabelle couldn’t breathe. For the life of her, she couldn’t even move off the bed. Hawk’s tenderness and kindness surprised her. She was his prisoner, and yet he promised to assist her. Indeed, he could have killed her by now and not had a second thought about it.

She should thank him, even as no more than a means of self-preservation, but with a kiss? She couldn’t possibly put her mouth on his again. Not after memories of the other evening invaded her senses every minute of the day, only growing worse now.

If she did bestow a kiss upon him, would he want more? Would he trap her in his embrace and not let her go since they were on his bed? She glanced to his bandages. Hopefully, he was as weak as he’d been yesterday. W