14
Brock held his new wife in his arms, a quiet peace filling him. They had managed to enjoy a peaceful night’s sleep at the inn as man and wife. Late morning sun boldly illuminated the room. Brock knew he should have gotten up and roused Joanna from her slumber, but they’d traveled so hard the last few days that she deserved to rest. And he couldn’t resist enjoying her like this.
She was nestled against him, his arms around her, pulling her tighter to him. Having been inside her, sharing himself with her and she with him, the idea of putting any distance between them now was unfathomable. Merely holding her while his lips occasionally dropped kisses onto the damp curls of her head, filled him with a peace he’d never before experienced and never imagined he would feel.
The scars left be
