Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(11)

She stood close to him now, her head tilted back as she stared up at him.

“Let me see your back,” he implored softly.

“Why?”

“Ere we decide what did or did not happen, I wish to make certain no wounds linger where you cannot see them.”

She took a moment to consider, then nodded. Turning away, Mistress Bethany reached for the hem of her tunic and pulled it all the way up to her neck in back, her arms crossed over her breasts in front.

Robert swallowed. The skin of her narrow back was as ruby-coated as the rest of her. It was also crossed by three tiny black strips of material that puzzled him as much as the rest of her garb. One was the width of his forefinger and traversed her back from side to side, widening beneath her arms. Two others, narrower than his smallest finger, came down from her shoulders to join it. He could not guess their purpose. But at least one of them was in the way.

Reaching up, he carefully slipped one finger beneath the smaller strap on the left.

The woman jumped and hastily looked over her shoulder.

“I am only searching for injuries,” he assured her.

Surprisingly, the strap came away from her skin with little urging. It actually stretched as he pulled it away. Curious, he drew the strap even farther away from her, marveling at its resilience… until it slipped off the end of his finger and hit her skin with a sharp snap.

She jumped.

He frowned. “Did that hurt?”

“Aye, thank you very much,” she growled testily.

For some reason, Robert felt heat creep up his cheeks. “Forgive me. I did not intend to harm you.”

“Whatever,” she grumbled. “Just don’t do it again.”

Reclaiming the strap, he gingerly moved it aside, careful not to let it escape him this time, and peered beneath. There was so much blood that he found it hard to discern what it did or did not conceal.

Stepping closer to her, he ducked his head to get a better view.

She stiffened.

“Easy,” he whispered in the same voice he used to calm Berserker. “There is so much blood I cannot see beneath it.”

“Will it wipe off?” she asked, her voice conveying her anxiety.

“I do not wish to harm you further by putting pressure on the wound.”



“There is no wound. Just do it.”

When Robert hesitated, she reached back with her right hand and started scrubbing at her skin.

Robert grabbed her hand, stilling it before she could inflict further damage. “Cease!”

“It doesn’t hurt!” she insisted.

Michael took a step toward them, intending to restrain her if necessary.

Bethany half-turned and backed into Robert, her fingers curling around his in a grip that bordered on painful.

“Michael,” Robert instructed, “remain where you are.”

He halted.

“Easy,” Robert crooned to the trembling woman. “He will come no closer.”

She nodded, her throat working in a swallow.

“Now, let me finish examining your wounds.”

After a moment, she released his hand and turned her back to him once more.

When Robert returned his attention to her shoulder, he noticed that she had removed enough blood to show him that there was indeed no wound.

Frowning, he rubbed his thumb over the area the hole in her shirt had covered. “There is no wound here.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“But there was one.” ’Twas a statement more than a question.

“Yes. Is there a scar?”

He felt a raised irregular circle beneath the grit that covered it. “Aye.”

“There’s one in front, too.”

Leaning into her, his chest pressing against her back, he peered down at the front of her shoulder and brushed her clothing aside. “Aye. There is a smaller scar right here.” He touched it with his finger.

He noticed she was holding her breath about the same time he realized their bodies were pressed together.

Pulse leaping, he cleared his throat, stepped back, and dropped to one knee behind her so he could search for her other wound. “Tell me if I cause you pain,” he uttered, staring at her slender waist and gently rounded hips.

She nodded, her breath soughing out.

With great care, he wiped at the red that coated her back where her injury should be and revealed a scar similar to the one in her shoulder.

An idea began to form. Ere he pursued it, he gently ran his hands over her back and sides in search of cuts or abrasions or anything else that could have produced this amount of blood.

There was nothing.

Taking her by the hips, he swiveled her around to face him. His position, kneeling before her, placed his face on a level with her breasts. But he steadfastly kept his gaze trained beneath them.

The scar he found in front was larger, suggesting a violent exit by whatever projectile had pierced her. And Robert again found himself wondering how she could have survived.





Chapter Three



Beth watched the handsome knight rest warm, rough hands on her waist. When he smoothed his thumbs across her flat stomach, a shock zipped through her.

Her breath caught. It was almost as strong as the shock she received when she forgot to use dryer sheets in the winter and went pawing through the laundry as soon as she removed it.