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.Had someone told her she would finish the day tied to a sumptuous bed in a luxurious corner penthousein custody of the Gaulish Ghost, watching a fire burn down to embers, well fed and sleepy, she'd haveescorted that person to the nearest psychiatric ward.She was frightened--oh, who was she kidding? Embarrassed though she was to admit it, she was everybit as fascinated as she was frightened.Life had taken a decidedly loopy turn and she wasn't as upset about it as she suspected she probablyshould be.It was a little difficult to work oneself into a satisfying fit of fear-for-one's-life, when one'scaptor was such an intriguing, seductive man.A man who cooked a full Scots meal for his prisoner, builta fire for her, and played classical music.An intelligent, well-educated man.A sinfully sexy man.When not only hadn't one been harmed, one had been quite tantalizingly kissed.And although she had no idea what tomorrow would bring, she was curious to find out.What could hebe looking for? Was it possible he was no more than what he presented himself as? A wealthy man whoneeded certain information for some reason, who--if he couldn't obtain the texts he needed by legitimatemeans--stole them, intending to return them?Page 29Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html"Right.Color me stupid." Chloe rolled her eyes.Still, throwing a wrench into the works, impairing her ability to neatly label him a thief, was the fact thathe'd donated valuable, authenticated artifacts in exchange for the third Book of Manannan.Why would the Gaulish Ghost do such a thing? The facts just weren't adding up to the profile of acoldblooded mercenary.She was bursting with curiosity.She'd long suspected it might one day be herdownfall and, indeed, it had landed her in quite a pickle.After dinner, he'd untied her and escorted her to the bathroom adjoining the master suite (walking a bittoo dose for her comfort, making her painfully aware of two hundred-plus pounds of solid male musclebehind her).A few minutes and a knock later, he'd informed her he'd placed a shirt and sweats (he'dcalled them trews) outside the door.She'd spent thirty minutes in the locked bathroom, first snooping for a convenient person-sized heatingduct--the kind one frequently saw in the movies but never found in real life--then deliberating overwhether writing an SOS message in lipstick on the window might accomplish anything.Other than himfinding it and getting aggravated.She'd opted not.Not just yet anyway.No need to alert him to herintention to escape at the earliest opportunity.She'd not felt brave enough to risk nudity and showering, even with the locked door, so she'd washedup a bit, then brushed her teeth with his toothbrush because there was no way she was not going to brushher teeth.She'd felt strange using it.She'd never used a man's toothbrush before.But after all, she'drationalized, they'd eaten from the same fork.And she'd nearly had his tongue in her mouth.Honestlywould have rather liked his tongue in her mouth, so long as she had a firm guarantee it would stop there.(She wasn't about to become the next pair of panties beneath his bed, not that she had any to leave.)She drowned in his clothes, but at least when he'd retied her to the bed, she hadn't had to worry abouther skirt riding up.The sweats were drawstring--the only saving grace--rolled up about ten times, theshirt fell to her knees.No panties was a bit disconcerting.He'd tucked her beneath the coverlet.Tested the bonds.Lengthened them slightly so she might sleepmore comfortably.Then he'd stood at the edge of the bed a moment, gazing down at her with an unfathomable expressionin his exotic golden eyes.Unnerved, she'd broken eye contact first and rolled--inasmuch as she wasable--onto her side away from him.Sheesh, she thought, blinking heavy-lidded, sleepy eyes.She smelled like him.It was all over her.She was falling asleep.She couldn't believe it.In the midst of such dreadful, stressful circumstances, shewas falling asleep.Well, she told herself, she needed her sleep so her wits would be sharp tomorrow.Tomorrow shewould escape.He hadn't tried to kiss her again, was her final, slightly wistful, and utterly ridiculous thought before shedrifted off.Page 30Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlSeveral hours later, too restless to sleep, Dageus was in the living room, listening to the rain patteringagainst the windows and poring over the Midhe Codex, a collection of mostly nonsensical myths andvague prophecies ("a massive muddling mess of medieval miscellany," one renowned scholar had calledit, and Dageus was inclined to agree), when the phone rang.He glanced at it warily, but did not rise toanswer it.A long pause, a beep, then "Dageus, 'tis Drustan."Silence."You know how I hate talking to machines.Dageus."Long silence, a heavy sigh.Dageus fisted his hands, unfisted them, then massaged his temples with the heels of his palms."Gwen's in the hospital--"Dageus's head whipped toward the answering machine, he half-rose, but stopped."She had untimely contractions."Worry in his twin brother's voice.It knifed straight to Dageus's heart.Gwen was six-and-a-half-monthspregnant with twins.He held his breath, listening.He'd not sacrificed so much to bring his brother and hisbrother's wife together in the twenty-first century, only to have something happen to Gwen now."But she's fine now."Dageus breathed again and sank back down to the sofa."The doctors said sometimes it happens in the last trimester, and so long as she doesn't have furthercontractions, they'll consider releasing her on the morrow."A time filled with naught but the faint sound of his brother's breathing."Och.brother.come home." Pause.Softly, "Please."Click.Chapter 5Dageus was perilously close to losing control."That means 'bridge, ' not 'adjoining walkway, ' " she was saying, peering over his shoulder and pointingat what he'd just scribbled in the notes he was taking.Some of her hair tumbled over his shoulder andspilled down his chest.It was all he could do not to slip his hand into it and tug her lips to his.He should never have untied her this morn.But it wasn't as if she could escape him, and it bordered onbarbaric to keep her tied to the bed.Besides, the mere thought of her tied to the bed was obsessing adark part of his mind.Still, it was no better having her flitting about, examining everything, pestering himwith incessant questions and comments.Page 31Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlEach time he looked at her, a silent growl rose in his throat, scarce repressed hunger, need to touch herand taste her and--"Doona be hanging over my shoulder, lass." Her scent was filling his nostrils, inciting a lustful stupor.Scent of lush woman and innocence.Christ, didn't she sense that he was dangerous? Mayhap notovertly, but in the way a mouse took one look at a cat and kept wisely to the shadowy corners of aroom? Apparently not, for she chattered on."I'm just curious," she said peevishly."And you're getting it wrong.That says, 'When the man from themounts, high where the yellow eagles soar, takes the low.er, path or journey.on the bridge that cheatsdeath'--how curious, the bridge that cheats death?--'the Draghar will return' Who are the Draghar? I'venever heard of them.What is that? The Midhe Codex? I've never heard of that either.May I see it?Where did you get it?"Dageus shook his head.She was irrepressible."Sit lass, or I'll tie you up again."She glared at him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]