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lived more than her share of years.
"I fell asleep in the bath. I'm sorry to have kept you
waiting. I will be ready in a moment . . . as soon as I braid
my hair."
Brody entered the room and closed the door behind
him. He was careful to stay by the door, because if he
entered the room fully he would surely strip her naked and
toss her on the bed.
When Bri bent over to wipe water that had pooled
on the floor beside the tub, Brody had to clench his jaws
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before he either groaned from the pressure of his growing
erection against his pants, or growled at the sight of her
round bottom pointed in his direction.
Unable to take anymore, Brody moved forward.
"Here, let me do that whilst you tend to your hair."
Bri straightened and looked at him curiously before
handing over the drying cloth. She removed her brush from
her travel bag and began with long, slow strokes. Brody
had thought the scent of her soap to be enough to drive him
mad, but that long, beautiful, silk mane of hers was making
his fingers itch to sift through the ebony strands the way
her brush was doing at that very moment.
He sat perfectly still, watching each stroke until she
stopped and turned her face to him. The sudden movement
broke the spell, and he quickly resumed the job of wiping
up the puddles of water.
Heat flooded his neck and his ears. What in
tarnation? Embarrassed? He had never been embarrassed
over watching a woman a day in his life! Man was he ever
in a fix. If he didn't get back on the trail, and soon, he was
going to do something stupid like fall in love with Brianna
Wallace, a woman totally out of his grasp.
When Brody finished sopping up the water with the
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towel he stood and turned to Bri to find she had braided her
hair and had wound it in a circle at the nape of her neck. A
pair of pearl combs held it in place. The smile on her face
as she stood before him, as if ready for his inspection, stole
his breath.
"Beautiful." The only word Brody could force from
his lips. The sight of her seemed to keep him addled.
Bri giggled behind fingers that touched her lips. The
same ones he wanted to kiss, to taste.
"Shall we?" Brody stepped forward and held out his
arm. Once Bri's slender hand rested on his bicep, he
escorted her to the door and down to the dining hall.
* * * *
The dining hall was full. Seated in the middle of the
room, Bri found herself surrounded by talking, laughter, the
clink of utensils, and a few bodily noises she knew most
folks believed to be a sign of a good meal.
An older woman approached. She wore an apron
over her cotton dress. Her hair was piled high on top her
head and her face flushed from the heat of the kitchen.
"Evenin' folks. There's fried chick'n, dumplin's, beans, and
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pie for de'sert."
Bri's stomach almost growled aloud while the
woman spoke of the meal choices for the night.
"Sounds like a mighty fine meal." Brody turned his
attention to Bri. "Care for lemonade or sweet tea?"
"Oh, sweet tea would be fine." The room wobbled a
bit. Bri realized she had gone far too long without blood.
She quickly caught the woman's attention just as she'd
turned to leave. "May I make a request of my chicken?" Bri
hesitated a moment as the woman waited for her to
continue. "I wish to have my chicken not fully cooked."
The woman's eyebrows rose.
Bri turned to Brody with a nervous smile. "I like my
chicken moist and full of flavor."
After a few moments, the woman nodded and
walked away, heading for the kitchen.
Making busy with her napkin, Bri waited. She had a
feeling Brody had more questions to ask her.
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CHAPTER TWELVE
Brody thought Bri's request to have her chicken not
fully cooked to be a mite strange, but then again, she wasn't
from this country. He figured where she was from such
things were probably normal.
Racking his brain for conversation, Brody blurted
the first thing that came to mind. "You smell right nice, Bri.
Like a field of flowers." Stupid.
Bri smiled, evidentially pleased with his
compliment. A few moments of silence passed before Bri
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