Part 9 (1/2)

Alex swore and she opened her eyes. He couldn't do it. After all his planning, he couldn't harm her. One look at the uncertain fear in her soft eyes and his fury petered away.

He would steal another kiss. He told himself it was the least he could do to chastise her. Her mouth was parted to speak, but he kissed her. She struggled, her hands fisting against his chest and pus.h.i.+ng. Her mouth was soft beneath his, sweet. Her breath sighed into him, filling him... and then she went limp in his arms. He examined her slack features, annoyed at himself. He'd frightened her into a faint.

This was not his finest moment. He'd never even paid for women before and here he was, forcing himself on this wee thing and scaring her into insensibility. He looked around, trying to decide what to do. His experience with women was minimal-nonexistent when it came to swoons and suchlike. He lowered her to the ground and untied the water skin from Bear's saddle. Perhaps a drink would revive her. He knelt at the burn, filling the water skin.

He heard nothing until the quarrel landed in the water with a plop, barely missing his head. He rolled aside, splas.h.i.+ng through the water and reaching for weapons that weren't there. His first thought was that Carlisle had found them, until he saw Fayth Graham, astride Bear, latch leveled at his heart.

He straightened, water dripping from his hair and chin.

”You raping murderer,” she said, her lovely face twisted with hate and disgust. ”I should kill you for ruining my life.”

The b.i.t.c.h had tricked him again, this time with a false faint. He ground his teeth, furious with himself for becoming giddy-headed over this woman, and came after her. She had already reloaded the latch. At such close range, the quarrel would punch through his jack and mail, perhaps even through his body.

She lowered the latch, aiming the quarrel at his crotch. ”Or mayhap I'll put an end to your lechery... Forever.”

”Do that and you'll not find me so merciful.”

”Merciful!” She spat on the ground, her mouth curved unpleasantly. ”I wonder if Jack found you merciful.” With one last glare of hatred, she dug her heels into Bear's sides, yanking the reins to turn the horse. Bear bounded forward.

Alex whistled.

Bear turned and came back, despite Fayth's kicking and sawing on the reins, and her promises to personally geld the horse if it didn't obey. She was enraged, her eyes burning, her mouth a thin line.

”You're not a very good horse thief, la.s.sie.”

”Let him go!”

He advanced on her, reaching for Bear's bridle. ”I'm not finished with you just yet. You can try to ride away, but Bear's well trained. He obeys me over anyone else.”

The latch came up again, the steel bolt head a few feet from his nose. ”You won't be able to whistle at all if I shoot you in the face.”

Alex held up his hands, as if surrendering. ”Then do it. You think me a raping murderer. Punish me.”

Her finger trembled on the trigger, her mouth a thin white line. Bear had stopped a few feet from him, waiting for his next instructions.

”Let him go or I will shoot your eye out!”

”Which is it? Heart? Mouth? Eye? Or...?” He waved a suggestive hand at his crotch. ”Let me prepare for the forthcoming blow.” He c.o.c.ked a brow at her angry stare. ”It is forthcoming, is it not?”

She tapped Bear's sides and the horse came forward, toward Alex. He tensed, wondering what she would do. He didn't believe she would shoot him. Oh, she was a vicious and clever little thing, but not bloodthirsty, of that he was certain.

She kept the latch trained on him. ”You killed my betrothed-and now you try to ravish me. You don't deserve to live.”

”Carlisle is alive and well. I've not harmed him.”

Her lip curled. ”You don't even remember, do you? Not Carlisle. Jack Graham. My betrothed. You murdered him.”

Alex went still. In his thirty years he'd killed many men but never murdered one. He'd killed Grahams-and likely she was right about this Jack. But he'd never killed a man who wasn't trying to kill him. But that truth would mean naught to a woman who'd lost her love. Perhaps she was capable of murder. He must tread more carefully.

”No great loss to you, little one. You've a far bigger fish in your net with Carlisle.”