Breathe Again

Chapter 22

Darkness enveloped the loft while Dottie concentrated on Elliot's relaxed deep breathing in his crib next to her blending with her mother's light snores.

She should be exhausted herself after all they'd done and accomplished. But no, she remained wide awake and had been for several hours, regardless of how hard she tried to command her body to relax.

The blood in her veins sang as it went along its merry way, seeming to electrify her limbs. And it was all Sterling's fault. If she were a better, more wholesome woman, she wouldn't have this problem.

For starters, she would not have been caught in the loft with him, accepting his dare, and showing the mole as she had done—let alone giving in to the desire to kiss him.

If she were wholesome, she would have put a stop to that nonsense the moment it presented itself. If she had done that, she would have found sleep the moment her weary head touched her pillow, lulled to peaceful rest by the sounds of her sleeping baby next to her bed.

However, she was readily coming to believe—and she was still unsure if she should be worried about it or not—that she was not a wholesome woman. The very idea that she could be considered wholesome and still have such a burning desire, need, or whatever you wanted to call it, to see if Sterling was awake was ludicrous.

Every reason she could think of as to why it was not only a foolish idea but also a very dangerous one, had been pushed aside. The only thing that kept her in bed was that she hadn't heard a peep come from his side of the hay bales.

She refused to act the fool and go and investigate only to find she was the only one suffering. What if she moved the quilt aside and found him sleeping soundly, not a care in the world? Shaking her head, she clamped her eyes firmly shut and turned on her side.

Sleep was nearly upon her a little later when she heard a heavy thump on the stairs, followed by a muffled oath and a pained-filled groan. Cocking her head to listen for any other sounds, she suddenly found herself moving the quilt aside and rushing to the staircase as the unmistakable sound of Sterling struggling up the stairs reached her ears.

"What on earth are you doing?" she whispered loudly, just barely able to make out his form in the darkness.

Faint moonlight illuminated him enough to see he grimaced in pain as he hobbled up the remaining steps. With another muttered curse, he made it to the top. "I was trying to escape a band of gypsies. I came awfully close to succeeding too if you must know. But, they used a poisoned dart, and now I fear I've only moments left to live." He staggered over to her and continued to grumble under his breath.

Dottie bit back a smile, "A poisoned dart, and a band of gypsies? You've had quite an eventful night."

"You don't know the half of it, Dot."

Playing along with his story, she wrapped his arm across her shoulder and helped him toward his bed. "Is there a cure for this poison, or is all hope lost?"

He came to a stop and gave her a devilish grin, "As a matter of fact, there is a cure..."

Chuckling, she shook her head and prodded him forward. "Let me guess, does it have something to do with a kiss?"

The look he bestowed on her was utterly wolfish and sent a thrill of excitement through her body when he murmured, "How did you know? You're not one of them in disguise are you?"

He was far too dangerous in the dark. She should have learned her lesson last night and stayed in bed regardless of the commotion he'd created. It was as though there was a cord connecting them; each moment spent with him drawing the cord tighter until there no space remained between them. No possibility of escape, the only way out was to surrender.