Читать книгу Her Stolen Son - Rita Herron - Страница 2

Colt’s caring concern brought tears to her eyes, and she leaned against him, desperately needing his comforting voice and arms.

She slid her hands up his torso and rubbed slow circles across his chest. His breath hitched slightly, and he wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against him.

“I just want my son back,” she whispered.

“I know, and we will get him back.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead and the tears began to slip down her cheeks. But he didn’t push for more. Instead, he held her and let her vent her emotions until she finally sighed and wiped at her face.

Then she tilted her head back and looked into his eyes. He’d driven all night and looked tired, but compassion and concern and other emotions she didn’t understand registered on his face, as if fatigue never slowed him down. With one thumb, he swept her hair away from her forehead. His lips parted, the whisper of his breath brushed her face.

“Serena?”

“Please kiss me, Colt. Make the pain go away for a while.”