Words of Love - By Hazel Hunter Page 0,4

but firmly unfolded them, until he could hold her hand. He lightly rubbed the stiff fingers between his palms and looked up at her. She hadn’t moved. He stood directly in front of her and put his fingers on the hand covering her mouth. She immediately opened her eyes and inhaled through her nose. But as he started to lift her hand away, she resisted and her breathing rapidly rose.

If she needed to scream, then she should scream.

Who wouldn’t want to scream after what they’d just been through?

Her nostrils were flaring and collapsing, trying to keep up, and when he finally managed to pry her hand away, lightning flashed behind her at the cave entrance and she shrieked.

A bone-chilling wail leapt from her throat as she shut her eyes tight. It startled him and he nearly let her hand go but she was gripping his hand hard now. As the wail died away, her entire body began to tremble.

“Let’s get you inside the tent,” he said.

With an arm around her waist, he picked up the lantern, moved the tent flap aside and led her through.

Inside the spacious tent there were two small beds on either side. They were identical, with metal tubing that formed the headboard and footboard. The thin, tick mattresses were covered in sheets and blankets and each one was draped with mosquito netting. He’d used a tarp for a room divider, though it was currently tied up and out of the way. He left the lantern on the improvised work desk of plywood across rubber tote boxes. Still with his arm around her waist, he could feel the temblors shuddering through her body. If she didn’t lie down, she’d fall down.

He guided her through the netting and turned her to face him.

Like him, she was soaked through to the skin. The large clothing that draped her was plastered down and he realized with a start that she had a body. Petite and curved and…she shuddered again.

She was trying to take off the drooping canvas hat but her hands shook so badly there was no way she could manage it.

“Here,” he said. “Let me.”

He loosened the toggle under her chin and lifted the hat away. Long waves of red hair unfurled, wet and glistening in the dim light. Again, he was surprised. Somehow, he’d thought she wore her hair short.

He tossed the hat to the floor with a soggy plop and removed her glasses. He folded them with a little clinking sound and tucked them into his wet, chest pocket.

Maybe because she wasn’t trying to look through raindrops, she actually seemed to see him. He hadn’t realized she had hazel eyes. He grasped her lightly by the arms and searched her face.

“Are you okay?” he said, quietly. She slowly nodded. “Well,” he said, watching her lips. “Would you mind saying that? Just to humor me?”

“I’m–” she started, just as lightning flashed. She jumped and a tiny scream escaped from her. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. Her eyes welled up with tears as the trembling ramped up and she shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to hold back a sob.

She was sorry?

He took a half-step forward and gently hugged her. He was the one who’d put them in danger. He was the one who’d knowingly set out in the face of a monsoon.

“No,” he said. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” She buried her face in his chest and he felt her crying. “Please, Jessica, don’t cry,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Obsession, his obsession, had nearly got them killed. Then, he remembered the singe on the back of her shirt.

“Let me see your back,” he said suddenly.

He didn’t give her a chance to reply as he looked over her shoulder and down her back. Even in the lantern light, he could see that the white cloth was definitely scorched.

“Dammit,” he muttered.

He tried to lift the fabric away from her skin but it was too wet. Quickly, he separated from her and began to unbutton her blouse.

“What…?” she said.

“I need to see your back,” he said, his voice strained.

He realized his own hands were quaking a bit. Finally, the last button was undone and he turned her around and slipped the shirt from her shoulders. The skin of her back was a milky white but, in a vaguely oval shape that ran from above her bra to the top of her right shoulder, it looked as though she’d been sunburned.

“No,” he