Oliver couldn't remember a time when anyone else had ever covered him with a
blanket or even tried to see to his comfort. His mother had died at his
birth, and his father had taken great pride in seeing to his discomfort by hiring
nurses, governesses, and tutors who didn't have a nurturing bone in their bodies.
So, he wasn't surprised to find that she touched his heart a bit when she'd offered
him the corner of her plaid.
Heal turned to him with a furrowed brow. "May I ask ye a question?"
Her hand slid to touch his leg under the plaid, and Oliver tamped down the lust
her gentle touch sent racing through him. Traveling through the night
suddenly seemed the best idea he'd had in a long while. If Hazel wasn't careful,
he'd toss up her skirts right then and there. Annie is damned. Mo
