Chapter 9: Terms

Duncan took one look at the two of them and decided to go and find a car.

"An hour," he said at the door. "Maybe two. Don't kill each other."

The bakery door closed behind him.

Astrid turned the lock.

Vaughn stood in the middle of the upstairs room with flour in his hair and his cut arm held against his ribs.

"You said try it tonight," he said.

"I did."

"I'm trying."

"Then try harder."

She took his shirt in both fists and pulled him down.

He kissed her back with a groan that she felt in her own ribs.

His hands slid down her back and hauled her up against him.

She got her legs around his waist before he could think about his arm.

He carried her three steps to the bed and dropped her on it.

She laughed.

He stripped off his shirt, and she saw the white scars that ran across his chest and shoulder.

The dressing on his elbow was already soaked through.

"You're bleeding on my bed," she said.

"It's Duncan's bed."

"Then bleed faster."

She pushed him onto his back.

She pulled her own shirt over her head and flung it across the room, and his eyes went over her slowly.

He looked at the bruise on her ribs and the old scar under her breast.

He looked at the long line from her hip to her knee where a blade had once opened her up.

His hand came up and traced the scar, and his thumb was rough.

"You've been hurt a lot," he said.

"Don't you dare be gentle with me."

"I wasn't going to be."

She worked his belt open and shoved his trousers down.

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