She could not, too mired in the need to touch him, to reach for him and feel the life of his skin not the sallow tint of death her mind had suggested ...o her again and again over the days of their captivity. Her hands smoothed across the planes of his chest, the warmth reassuring under her touch, the goosebumps following her touch a calming sign of life, or reality, of his safety. He caught her wrists in his hands, not lifting them from his chest, just halting their movement.“Jules, you do not. Although it was but early in the afternoon, Elizabeth knew from experience that she was in for a long wait before some passing man or boy could be inveigled into leading her home. As it was, the only available male was a seven year old urchin who was willing enough but whose spindly legs would scarce survive the six mile round trip. Besides, he was sure to get lost on the way back, and Elizabeth had been waiting patiently for an hour, sweating freely in the heat and occasionally wriggling her. More

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