Love's Call Read Online Free PDF

he threaded his fingers together and planted them on his thigh.
    Silence descended, and he called himself every curse word he could think of. He’d ruined what tiny bit of progress he’d made with her.
    “Avril,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, averting her eyes.
    “Avril,” Roduch repeated, one corner of his mouth lifting.
    My wife’s name is Avril.
    But as he met her gaze, he saw the long road ahead of them.
    She wouldn’t be his until she healed.
    He’d be by her side, no matter how long it took. But as much as he distasted his magic, it was never wrong. Avril was meant to be his.
    Avril spread her fingers, then hands, looking at her arms. She touched her face, her stomach, small breasts lifting with one breath, then two as she inhaled deeply. She closed her eyes and stretched like a cat.
    He watched as memories from his past visions teased. Roduch had seen her move like that many times.
    Naked. With him moving over her, with her.
    He gulped.
    Wretch.
    She’d been through hell, and all he could think about was her being bared to him?
    “My wounds…they’re gone. I’m not hurting now. Where are my clothes?” Avril whispered, staring down at the soft beige chemise. She reached for the fabric, as if it was the finest gown.
    “Who…who…dressed me?” Her cheeks went an adorable shade of pink.
    Roduch couldn’t hold back his smile. “The Headwoman, Morag. Lord Dagget healed you. And Lady Aldern threw your clothes out. She’ll have them replaced. They were beyond repair.”
    Avril’s hands stopped their exploration of the linen. Her eyes went wide again.
    “A…a… lord healed me?” She whimpered. Her small fist balled up the chemise at her stomach, her already-pale skin as white as the bed linens.
    “Avril? Are you all right?”
    She ignored him. “ The Lady of Greenwald will get me new clothes?” Muttering, she shook her head, dark curls bobbing, and her knuckles blanched from her tight grip. Then she trembled. As she met his eyes again, she jolted, as if she remembered she wasn’t alone. Avril cleared her throat. “I am fine, Sir Grantham.” Her voice was steady, he had to admire that she’d gotten herself together so quickly, even if she really had nothing to fear.
    His instincts tingled. She was far from fine . It was all a mask. They’d just officially met, but it bothered him she wore it with him. Immensely.
    “Just Roduch,” he whispered. Roduch reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away, so he squeezed gently.
    Her eyes darted there and then back to his face.
    He offered a small smile, but her shoulders didn’t relax. Roduch wanted her to open up, needed to find out who’d hurt her, but she had to trust someone first. They’d made progress, but not nearly enough.
    Would she answer him if he discreetly questioned her?
    “What happened to you?” he whispered.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Who hurt you, Avril?”
    Silence descended again. Roduch cursed under his breath. Being direct had pushed her too far. He loosened his hold and her fingers slipped away.
    Wringing her hands, she scooted as far away as possible, paling out even more and drawing her knees to her chest like she had before. She studied the bed linens, her small frame heaving. “My husband.”
    His chest ached when she wouldn’t look at him. Sharp daggers pierced with each breath. Rage boiled his blood. He was torn between that anger and crushing pain.
    She was already married. Belonged to someone else. She was supposed to be his .
    A man who should have sheltered and protected had harmed her.
    He growled. “I will kill him,” Roduch whispered.
    Avril scooted to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of him. She grabbed his arm, pulling him back to reality, when her nails bit into his skin.
    Damn , he must’ve spoken aloud.
    “Kill him?” she croaked, tears spilling down her cheeks. A tremble racked her small body. “You would do that for me?” Awe and admiration wrapped her words.
    He froze,