sob choked out of her and his heart caught at the deep-reaching agony of it. Blood? What was going on in her head? Just another question to add to the others he had about her.
He wished her fever would cool, that Catherine would return. He took her hand and dipped it into the water up to her wrist, spreading the wet rag on her chest for a moment. The tiny mole he’d glimpsed before at the edge of her collarbone teased him. And so did that damn transparent undergarment.
Davis Lee stared at her plump breasts and the dusky nipples that had drawn up like shy buds. Despite the fact that he knew she was lying about something, want pounded through him, low and fierce and hot. He moved his gaze from the flat of her stomach to the dark shadow between her legs. His breath hitched on the same sharp edge of desire he’d felt for another woman with lies in her eyes.
Davis Lee dragged a hand down his face, wishing he could erase this picture of her from his mind. He had no doubt he would carry this image to his grave. What he needed was to focus on getting her fever down, helping her through this. Then finding out her connection to Ian McDougal and why she had really come to Whirlwind.
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