HerOutlandishStranger by Summer Devon Page A

delighted to oblige. And I would not feel you were a bad woman.
I don’t know if you believe me, but in my country there is no stigma attached
to two consenting adults doing whatever they please.”
    “Mr. White—”
    He laughed aloud, a large, startling sound. “Hey, woman, at
least call me Jazz.”
    An odd name, no doubt an abbreviation. Her cousin had a
friend whose given name was Charles and his family called him Chas. “Jas? Yes,
I suppose under the circumstances Christian names are appropriate. I am Eliza.”
    In the dark she felt him pull her hand to his face. He
pressed his warm lips firmly against the back of her hand and then he turned it
over and kissed her palm. The touch of his lips caused her whole body to tingle
and her feminine parts to ache. Neither of them breathed for a long few
seconds.
    “Pleased to meet you, Eliza,” he said, his voice a soft
growl, and she wondered if she’d ever heard her name said so interestingly. He
cleared his throat. “What were you going to say before I interrupted you?”
    “I cannot recall,” she said, truthfully. He rubbed her hand
against the smooth skin of his cheek for a moment, then slowly, carefully,
replaced it on his hard shoulder.
    “I think I must understand you. But may I…” She hesitated,
then timidly went on. “Would you mind if I embraced you? As we are, I mean. I
think it would warm us both.”
    “I’m glad you understand me. I wish I did,” he said
and then fervently added, “But please, Liza. Embrace whatever you wish.”
    She was not fond of warm jokes, but she could not help
laughing, partially in relief. She sensed he had hoped to ease her
embarrassment and she was grateful.
    “Mr. White, Jas, since we are speaking our minds, I should
tell you that I believe you are one of the most unusual people I’ve ever met.
Yet you are certainly the most generous I’ve ever met. I am more glad than you
can know that our paths crossed.”
    He did not answer and she wondered if she’d been too forward
again.
    She settled against his warm bulk and wrapped herself around
as much of him as she could, trying to ignore the persistent thrum of her body
where she touched him. Since she was exhausted, the tension melted from her
more quickly than she expected. And pressed against the reassuring muscular
heat of Jas she slept more soundly than she had since she discovered the ruins
of the villa.
    She saw her father and sister were walking in a field that
caught fire. She screamed and cried to them, but they ignored her and just
smiled and talked to each other. At last she felt the fire burning her and she
had to run away without them.
    “Hush, hush, you’re safe.” A voice next to her ear dragged
her from the nightmare. Somehow Mr. White had raised her up and into his arms.
She lay across his lap as he held her close, cuddling and rocking her. She
understood that she had been sobbing in her sleep.
    “My family. My father. M-my sister,” she tried to explain as
real sobs, not just the useless dry weeping of bad dreams, shuddered through
her. He crooned soft, meaningless words into her hair and she clutched one of
the strong arms that reached across her body. She held on to his solid arm and
cried until she couldn’t breathe without pain. At last she lay limp and
exhausted in his lap.
    After such a long time, he must have thought she slept. He
softly placed her on the cloak, this time facing away from him. He pulled her
tight against him, and wrapped the cloak around them both. She could feel his
heat and arousal against her back, and his ragged breath on her cheek, but he
did nothing other than enfold her in his arms and hold her for the rest of the
night. Once she thought she felt his fingers stroke her hair but by then she
was nearly asleep. Again the tension inside her melted and for a few seconds
before sleep overtook her, she thought she was in the arms of the man in her
hallucination.
    She was only dimly aware of a chill that bathed her back as
he