. . I’d be obliged.”Amalie didn’t know if her body would work at first. Her belly had tremors running it, while everywhere else seemed to be jumping with sensation. Worse was the sticky and raw and moist feeling at her apex. She sat, leaning on both arms and looked out into semi-darkness. Thayne rolled onto his front away from her. He was groaning as he did it.“Sporran?”“Whiskey. I need . . . whiskey.”“You do?” Amalie slanted a glance at him before shying away. It was much too soon for intimate words; too embarrassing. Especially after what they’d just done and the warm glow that still suffused her body.“’Tis a balm.”“For what?”“Pain.” He was still talking to the covers on the opposite side of him.“You’re in pain?” Amalie asked.He nodded.“Good.”He rolled his head and looked at her. “Good?”“That makes us even.”A smile tipped his lips. Her heart pinged in reply. She’d barely begun to silently berate the unfairness of that before he spoke again.“It could na’ be helped.
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