Vidal’s mind continued racing as he tended to her injuries. She deserves better than all she has endured, and I want to give it to her, but I don’t know how.
Task finished, he set the cloth aside and ran his fingers through his hair. What to do? What to do? How do I comfort a woman after an assault, an assault that resurrected memories of an even more painful attack? He looked at her sweet, ravaged face, longing to kiss her, but fearing the injury to her lip would hurt. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.
A look of grief twisted Rosalind’s features into a lip-trembling frown.
What do you want, querida? How can I comfort you?
The jagged tear in her bodice had fallen open again, baring one pale breast, n****e and all, to his gaze. A jolt of desire shot thro
