page_314 < previous page page_314 next page > Page 314 Chastity gasped. "I'm sorry, Chastity." Morgan tightened his arm around her. He drew her against his chest. He breathed in the scent of her hair, a sudden lust rising so sharply that he was hard put not to take her then and there. No, he wanted more. He wanted this woman to give herself to him. He wanted to own her, body and soul. He would have it no other way. Chastity was trembling. "You have to lie down, Chastity. You have to rest." Morgan managed a tender smile. "We're goin' to be leavin' here in another day or so." "We need to tell someone." He saw the difficulty with which she continued, " . . . about the Indians." "We will. We'll tell them what the Indians did." "Yes." Morgan lay Chastity back on the bed. He lifted the coverlet and drew it up over her, frowning at the bloodstained dress she still wore. He wound his fingers in the fiery curls stretched across the pillow, then leaned over her to touch his mouth to her cheek. He felt the shock that again rippled through her. It sent his blood surging. Drawing back, barely controlling himself, he whispered, "Go to sleep now." Turning away from the bed, Morgan saw Conchita in the doorway. Taking her arm as he drew the door closed behind him, he spat out, "Get that dress off her when she wakes up and  < previous page page_314 next page >