Jace
I could not stop thinking about her skin.
That was the problem. Days of iron discipline and careful distance and the word I kept saying to myself like a prayer. And then one night in a small room with a fire and a wooden tub and a practical necessity, and all of it was gone. Undone. I had held Kaida Hawkins in my arms with her back against my bare chest and her hair loose and her skin cool under my hands and my wolf had gone so quiet and so still that I hadn’t heard from him in twenty four hours.
The trail was slippery under the horses’ feet, the mud from yesterday’s rain still soft and treacherous in the low places. I kept my eyes on the ground ahead and my mind on the route and I almost succeeded.
Then Maggie sneezed.
It was a considerable sneeze for a such a small woman. Kaida
