For one fleeting, panic stricken moment she thought she was back in the carriage pinned beneath Tabitha before she remembered Gavin’s daring rescue and then… and then nothing. Blinking several times to clear her sleep blurred vision, she did a quick study of her surroundings. She was in a small, sun filled room that boasted plain white walls, a single wash basin in one corner, and a wooden chair in the other. Recalling what Gavin had said last night about the inn, she realized she must be in one of the rooms, although she had no recollection of arriving. Turning her head to the side, she could not quite contain the startled yelp of surprise that burst past her lips when she saw what – or, to be more accurate, who – was sprawled next to her in the narrow bed. Gavin slept like a man dead. It was his arm and leg that held her place, thrown haphazardly across her body as though they belonged there. His face was turned away and buried in a white pillow. From this angle she could just make out the neat line of stitches running across the cut at his temple.
