Then she did the same for him, passing him the spoon. His fingers curled about hers, so much darker than her own pale skin. It was moments before she ...emembered to tug hers free. She couldn’t meet his gaze as she nibbled on the bread, still slightly warm. The thought of those large, calloused hands on other parts of her body made her shiver. She remembered how they stroked over her belly, and lower, exciting strange sensations. ‘Miriam, where do you go?’ Her face swung to his, realising she. She turned back to face him.“Frieda, don’t let go of my hand,” Owen said. Frieda grabbed Owen’s limp uncasted fingers. Roxxi handed Frieda a quarter of her fistful of napkins.“Get over here!” Carlos growled. “It’s a mess.”“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” Elizabeth was panicking. Owen kept looking forward, terrified to look at Brett finally bleed out. Owen felt cold, weak. In that state he didn’t want to maintain his pretense that he was OK with Brett dying for him. “Keep the pressure on!”“Is. More

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