Kris’s hand slid over the outline of Ashton’s jaw, where a bluish mark marred the skin, her fingers cool and gentle. He leaned into the touch. “Nothing.” Why was she being so kind to him? After his clash with Camden, he had expected her to be even colder than she had been on Friday. Camden probably hadn’t mentioned anything to her. “Did somebody attack you? You should contact the police.” “Nobody attacked me.” He bent his head and turned it until her fingers were over his mouth. He kissed them, then took her hand and lowered it. He laced their fingers. Her small hand fit so well against his. “If I had known that you would let go of your grudge because of a few bruises, I would have acquired them sooner.” “How did you get them?” “I fought.” “You fought?” A cute crease cut into the spot between her eyebrows. She’s worried about me.
