At least when it had been in Paris under Donovan’s protection there had been a small comfort believing that no one would ever be able to buy it. But Donovan had sold it, along with the last bit of her belief that he cared enough about her to keep it close to him.
Quietly, she replaced the letter opener in her cloak pocket and returned to bed. She would have to leave Scotland for good, and the thought felt suddenly painful. She didn’t want to leave her family, or friends, or even Jaco, but it was too much of a liability to stay.
Shaking slightly, Faith tucked herself beneath the covers. Unconsciously aware of her presence next to him, Logan rolled, scooping her into his arms as he pulled her against his chest, leaving her to lie awake in his arms and wonder when and how and why she had ever fallen for Sir Logan Harris.
Chapter Fifteen
Adeep, almostparalyzing slumber had fallen over Logan after laying with Faith. It had been years since he had slept so soundly, and when he finally woke, he was resistant to open his eyes. He must have reached over to cover them in a blanket at some time during the night, for Faith’s naked body was pressed against his beneath a length of warm wool.
Faith’s golden-brown curls were spread out along the red counterpane. Logan could smell the heather in her hair as he inhaled. She turned, rolling onto her back as she slept. A small crease between her dark brows told him she was having some sort of difficult dream. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, then her jaw, and pulled back to see the crease disappear.
God, she was perfection. Their coupling had felt so easy and natural, as if they had been made strictly for one another and no one else. He wanted to kiss her awake and retake her, but remembering that he had fallen asleep before cleaning them up last time, he guiltily pushed the blanket off himself and got up.
Dipping a towel length into a ceramic bowl holding water near his shaving table, he wrung it out and returned it to the bed. Lifting the covers, he felt a moment’s remorse at the idea of having to disturb her sleep. She had rolled onto her back and stretched her legs straight, enticing him, when Logan noticed something.
Like strokes from a paintbrush, dark rust stains covered parts of her legs. Frowning, he bent closer. Had she beenbleeding? It certainly seemed so, though she wasn’t any longer.Perhaps her monthlies had started, he thought as he brought the cloth to her thighs. She shivered slightly at the coldness of the fabric, but as he cleaned away the marks, another more unsettling idea came to mind.
Had Faith lied about being Donovan’s lover?
No. She hadn’t. She couldn’t have. It would be preposterous to lie about something so important. Why would she even agree to start an affair with him if she was still innocent? It wouldn’t be because she was in love with him, that was for sure. The animosity between them had been palpable from the start.
But why wouldn’t this nagging feeling let him go?
He cleaned the washcloth and then returned to the bed, where he resumed washing Faith’s legs. The coolness from the cloth caused her to stir, and she rolled from side to side, seemingly trying to fend off waking up. Pulling her legs up to curl beneath her body, her eyes blinked. The tiny crease between her brows appeared once again as her eyes adjusted, and then, in a swift moment of panic, she sat up, her face strained with worry.
“Oh God, what time is it?” she asked, staring at Logan as he sat in the wooden chair. Her eyes dipped to the cloth in his hand. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning. I passed out before I could do so earlier.”
A deep blush covered Faith’s cheeks as she avoided eye contact.
“You don’t have to. I’m perfectly capable—”
“It’s no worry. I’m just trying to take care of you.”
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
Logan let out a frustrated puff of air as he stood up. She was a conundrum, but he had started to believe that they could be at least civil to one another. Watching her wrap her arms around her bent knees, he saw a range of emotions displayed on her face, and he wondered what he had done to upset her. Had hebeen too rough? He didn’t think so. Bumbling maybe, but he hadn’t done this in a while. She either, he supposed, for the pain that crossed her face had been…
The pain. It had been painful, yet he hadn’t stopped, too consumed with his desire, he supposed.
The realization of it all dawned on him as he stared at her. She avoided his gaze as she huddled herself into a ball.
“Faith,” he said as gently as possible, even as a ball of exasperation mounted within him. She refused to look at him. “Darling, look at me.”
A pause, and then.
“I don’t think can,” she said so softly that his heart nearly broke.
He was apprehensive about reaching for her, worried that any physicality might frighten her, but he did long to comfort her, even if a part of him was furious. But he couldn’t react with fury. She was obviously worried, and he rarely saw his Faith shaken. Why had she lied to him?
Tentatively, Logan’s hand reached out, stroking her exposed ankle. She flinched slightly but did not pull away.
“Love,” he began, thumbing the base of her ankle. “Tell me. Tell me that wasn’t your first time.”
Her eyes lifted at that moment, locking with his, and he felt his heart swell and break all at once.
“Would it be so terrible if it was?” she asked meekly.
