He was still shirtless, but his hair had dried, soft waves framing his face. His right arm was back in a sling, knuckles red and swollen, microphone h...ld in his left hand close to his lips. Abigail frowned at that. Michael sat close to him and Abigail’s eyes widened further when she saw the dark bruises under his eyes and swollen nose. He looked like he’d been hit in the face with a bat. “Good. Stop,” Gabriel said halting the song mid guitar riff. The look he leveled on Abigail was not. .. eyes adjusting to thedarkness the cool air soothing my flushed cheeks... my breast heavingfrom the excitement of this moment I turn and face you... SIMONAs we run with all speed to our dark sanctuary... I glance over toward the smithy shoppe... your father is still workingthe bellows and anvil, so I know his task is not yet half finished... thisfrees my mind to pursue you... your frock, wafting in the hot sun, is practically dry by the time we reach the barn, and, ducking behindyou, I hold. More

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