The Sapphire Brooch Katherine Logan (best beach reads TXT) 📖

either. Braham’s brusque behavior must have something to do with Gaylord’s note.

Did the secretary of war intend to send Braham out on another mission? To do what? The war was within days of ending. And where had Gaylord gotten the note? If he’d had it prior to boarding the carriage, why didn’t he give it to Braham earlier? If he didn’t have it earlier, where in heaven’s name had it come from? She frowned when a vague memory came to mind. While locked in traffic on Pennsylvania Avenue, a man bumped into the carriage. Did he pass a note to Gaylord? If so, why the secrecy?

She was too hot, too sticky, and too hungry to waste much energy trying to understand Braham’s clandestine activities. Maybe he had decided a romantic interlude with her was a bad idea? If so, she’d go to the hospital and see patients, and that would be the end of it. She flinched at the thought, and her heart hammered in her ears. Feeling rejected wasn’t an easy emotion to master.

“I’m going to have a bath and rest. Are you staying in?” she asked Jack.

He shook his head, looking troubled. “Since Braham’s using the study, I’ll work in my room. I have outlines for several articles I’d like to sell this week. If you need me, send me a—knock on my door, I guess.” His mouth curled up in a wry smile over his almost-slip.

She gave him a thumbs-up and marched up the stairs, an indomitable soldier off to do battle.

After a bath, she cleaned and sorted her medical kit and added a few notes to her journal. She didn’t write much, but she did jot down descriptions and insights which should trigger her memory when she was ready to recall certain events and people.

Another band had started playing outside the White House. She watched from the window with her hands braced against the frame and peered down into the street. An uneasy feeling settled over her. In a few days, Lincoln—

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. “Come in.”

Braham entered, closed the door, and came to stand next to her. “What’s gotten yer attention?”

She lifted up on tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips, breathing in the scent of tobacco. He didn’t smoke around her now, but she always knew when he had indulged in his favorite bad habit—a cigar.

“What’s happened? You shut down after you read the note from Gaylord, and you appear troubled now.” With a stroke of her finger, she combed back strands of hair dangling across his brow, concealing the only part of his forehead without scratches or cuts.

He took both her hands and kissed her palms, not a quick kiss like she had given him but a lingering one, filled with promise. “There’s something I have to do this afternoon, but I’ve arranged a carriage to take ye to Georgetown. I’ll join ye there for a late dinner, and we’ll stay until Friday. I promised ye time together. I won’t disappoint ye. I’ll be there tonight.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, not realizing how much she’d worried he might cancel. Greatly relieved, she sighed. “I was afraid you had changed your mind about going to Georgetown. I understand emergencies. Do what you have to do, and come when you can. What time will the driver pick me up?”

He studied her face, his shoulders relaxing a bit, and his eyes grew less troubled. “Cancelling our plans never occurred to me. The carriage will be here at three o’clock. Can ye be ready?”

“I have only a few things to pack.”

He glanced at her bed, where she had laid out traveling clothes. “Ye won’t need much.”

Heat rushed up her neck toward her face. Rarely, if ever, had she taken the time to plan a tryst with a lover. All she’d had time for was hit and miss sex, squeezed into a complicated life and a full surgery schedule. She did have sexy clothes, although not with her. Well, there was the one thing she had packed at the last minute, a red stretchy chemise trimmed with scalloped lace and a matching thong. “How about a suitcase full of short and sexy things?”

His eyes brightened into brilliant emeralds. “Short and sexy. I saw a picture of a woman on Jack’s Facebook page dressed in a”—Braham put his hands on his chest and slid them down to his groin—“short, black lacy undergarment which stopped at the top of her legs.”

She bit back a smile. She didn’t have the kind of enhanced body Braham would have seen posing in slinky black lingerie on Jack’s Facebook page. If Braham had those expectations, he’d be disappointed. The sexy red thing might not make it into her travel bag after all.

“You’re too jaded now. I don’t think you’d like my—”

He nudged her chin up, kissed her, and their open mouths fused hungrily. There were no playful nips and licks, but a full-on siege. Then he stopped and took a step back, breathing heavily. “There’s isn’t anything about ye I don’t like. Ye’re beautiful. I don’t care if ye wear a short sexy thing or nothing at all.” He put his hands behind her head and kissed her roughly. “I’ll be there late tonight.”

She stood there gulping, watching him hurry out the door. The moment she dropped to the stool in front of her dressing table, touching her bottom lip, slightly swollen now from his bruising kiss, Jack gave a cursory rap on her door and sauntered in without an invitation, as usual. When he noticed the clothes on her bed, he gave her a raised eyebrow look. “Going somewhere?”

“Oh.” Distractedly, she continued playing with her lower lip, otherwise not moving.

“Charlotte? What’s wrong?” He knelt in front of her and put his hands on her arms, squeezing gently. “Talk to me.”

The squeeze broke through her temporary trance. “What?”

One corner of his mouth curled wryly as he pointed to her lip. “Do I see a kissing bruise?”

She