you feel and how it might taste to kiss my way down your throat again.”
“I will not, Wynn McCord!” She twisted free and opened the pot of broth. “I can’t believe you’d even ask such a thing.”
“I’m thinking more of doing than of asking,” he said, still smiling, “and I’m thinking you’ll let me too.”
She stared at him and he had his answer in the need shining bright in her eyes. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the bowl of soup. “Now, eat your broth or I’ll call the sergeant back and he’ll pour it down you.”
He didn’t push touching her. He knew what lay beneath that plain blue dress and he’d wait. He couldn’t stop smiling though. She’d been shy with him when she hadn’t known where she stood, but the minute he had pulled her close, she knew how he felt. Nothing had changed between them. They both knew he needed her, but she’d come to him on her own terms, and he’d let her take her time.
He didn’t move as she sat on the side of the table and began feeding him. Halfway through the meal he watched as the blush came back to her cheeks. She talked of the broth and how good it would be for him, but they were both very much aware that his hand rested on her dress, just above her knee.
He needed her near and she needed his touch, even if they couldn’t seem to find the words.
That night when she checked his bandages and made sure he didn’t have a fever, his hand slipped beneath her gown and gripped the warm flesh above her knee.
Her breathing quickened as he tugged her knee so he could brush her skin.
“We going to talk about this, Anna?”
She closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered.
His grip tightened. “Am I making you feel uncomfortable, or am I hurting you in any way?” His hand moved a few inches higher.
“No.”
“I love the feel of you.” His touch turned to a caress. “I might not know how to be gentle, but I’ll never hurt you.”
She looked at him and smiled. “I know.”
Then, without him even asking her to, she leaned forward and kissed him.
Chapter 11
That night set a pattern to their lives. She was all the proper nurse in the morning when breakfast was brought in and several of the men came to visit, but after lunch she’d shoo them all away, saying McCord needed his rest. Then, in the silence of the office, she’d sit on the table that was his bed and face him.
Without a word, he’d unbutton her blouse and brush the tips of his fingers over her warm flesh until she finally sighed, leaned forward, and kissed him fully. Anna had no idea if this was the way couples should act. She was far too old to worry about it. All she knew was that McCord loved touching her and she loved being touched.
His injury prevented them from going further, even though Wynn sometimes told her of what he’d like to do with her while she buttoned up her dress and unlocked the door to the late afternoon sun.
He grew stronger every day, and every night he held her a little longer before she moved away to her tent.
Logic told her he was a man without roots or home. The odds were he’d leave her, no matter what she said or how she cried, but when he did, he’d take her heart. She forced herself not to dwell on the future but only to treasure each hour they had.
On their fifth day together, McCord stood and dressed himself. His back was healing. He’d be whole again soon.
She watched as he reached for his Colts, then thought better of putting them on, but she knew a part of this Ranger would never feel completely dressed without the guns strapped around his waist.
“Anna, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said the first chance they had alone together. “I’m moving to the enlisted men’s quarters tonight. Cunningham said he’d help me with my things.”
“No,” she said, feeling her back stiffen. Just like that, he was leaving her.
He reached for her, but she stepped away and they both knew he couldn’t move fast enough to catch her.
He took two steps to the door and pulled the bolt closed. “This may be the last time we have alone for a few days. I’m not sure I’ll have the opportunity or the energy to walk all the way