you didn’t have her pinned so tightly to you.”
Abruptly the grip on her ribs loosened and Adelaide could take a deep breath. Another one of those grunts from Isaiah that could have meant anything interrupted the silence.
She stopped struggling. There didn’t seem much point since she wasn’t having any effect. But she could listen and learn. Her cousins would approve of that. And no matter how terrified she was, there was something fascinating about both men. Something that had nothing to do with their handsome faces, muscled physiques, or confidence. Something intangible that came from within. Something stronger in Isaiah. She looked over her shoulder, trying to figure out what “it” was.
“Shit.”
Blade’s exclamation brought her gaze snapping back to his face. He sat on his horse as if he had a God-given right to judge, his mouth set in a firm line. He looked at her. He looked at Isaiah. And then he shook his head the way men did when they saw a certainty that couldn’t be helped.
“I hope the hell you know what you’re doing, Isaiah.”
“I know.”
“This won’t go well.”
Isaiah moved her behind him, not letting go of her hand so she couldn’t run as she wanted to do. “Everything will be fine as long as they don’t find out.”
Blade snorted. “You putting a lot of hope in that happening?”
“Not a lot.”
Blade’s horse snorted and tossed its head as he pulled back on the reins. “Well, if you have a need . . .”
Isaiah tipped his hat. “I owe you.”
Blade’s grin flashed white in the gloom. “Yeah. Big, the way I figure it. Don’t worry, I’ll be collecting.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Blade’s grin faded. “You’re still the same ungrateful son of a bitch you always were.”
Blade turned his horse and blended into the shadows that retreated before the dawn. How did he and Isaiah do that?
In the last moment before Blade completely disappeared, Adelaide stated, “That was rude.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know rude when I hear it.”
“And I know foolish when I see it.”
She was suddenly conscious of how alone they were. “I think I preferred it when you growled.”
“Trust me, lady, no one prefers it when I growl.”
Backing down would be a mistake. Her experience with her cousins had taught her that, so she raised her chin and took a stab at bravado. “I didn’t give you permission to call me ‘lady.’”
“I didn’t give you permission to speak at all.”
She jerked her arm. “We just fought a war to free the slaves.”
He didn’t let her go. “It’s not going to make a difference to you.”
He was obviously the type of man who had to have the last word. That being the case, she changed the subject.
“Let me go.”
“Why?”
She pried at his fingers. He had beautiful hands with long square-tipped fingers. And unfortunately, very strong.
“I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
She wasn’t going anywhere with him. “I can get there myself.”
“You’ll get lost.”
Her next tug got one finger loose. She took it as a positive sign. “I’ll take my chances.”
“No.”
Digging her elbow into his chest, she turned around until she could see his face. There was little more than an impression of full lips tucked inside a beard, and eyes full of pain. And intelligence? Yes, it stood to reason he was intelligent. Only an intelligent man could have defeated so many bandits in so short a time.
“It’s my life. I’ll do with it as I want.”
“I saved you.”
“So?”
“That makes it mine now.”
Damn. He meant it. She closed her eyes, trying to find the strength to deal with yet another determined male. Before she could find it, he was dragging her toward the woods. Oh no!
“My worry stone!”
He stopped dead. He couldn’t really understand what that bit of rock meant to her, could he?
“Where?”
“I dropped it when you jerked me off the horse.”
She expected him to ask her
Abruptly the grip on her ribs loosened and Adelaide could take a deep breath. Another one of those grunts from Isaiah that could have meant anything interrupted the silence.
She stopped struggling. There didn’t seem much point since she wasn’t having any effect. But she could listen and learn. Her cousins would approve of that. And no matter how terrified she was, there was something fascinating about both men. Something that had nothing to do with their handsome faces, muscled physiques, or confidence. Something intangible that came from within. Something stronger in Isaiah. She looked over her shoulder, trying to figure out what “it” was.
“Shit.”
Blade’s exclamation brought her gaze snapping back to his face. He sat on his horse as if he had a God-given right to judge, his mouth set in a firm line. He looked at her. He looked at Isaiah. And then he shook his head the way men did when they saw a certainty that couldn’t be helped.
“I hope the hell you know what you’re doing, Isaiah.”
“I know.”
“This won’t go well.”
Isaiah moved her behind him, not letting go of her hand so she couldn’t run as she wanted to do. “Everything will be fine as long as they don’t find out.”
Blade snorted. “You putting a lot of hope in that happening?”
“Not a lot.”
Blade’s horse snorted and tossed its head as he pulled back on the reins. “Well, if you have a need . . .”
Isaiah tipped his hat. “I owe you.”
Blade’s grin flashed white in the gloom. “Yeah. Big, the way I figure it. Don’t worry, I’ll be collecting.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Blade’s grin faded. “You’re still the same ungrateful son of a bitch you always were.”
Blade turned his horse and blended into the shadows that retreated before the dawn. How did he and Isaiah do that?
In the last moment before Blade completely disappeared, Adelaide stated, “That was rude.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know rude when I hear it.”
“And I know foolish when I see it.”
She was suddenly conscious of how alone they were. “I think I preferred it when you growled.”
“Trust me, lady, no one prefers it when I growl.”
Backing down would be a mistake. Her experience with her cousins had taught her that, so she raised her chin and took a stab at bravado. “I didn’t give you permission to call me ‘lady.’”
“I didn’t give you permission to speak at all.”
She jerked her arm. “We just fought a war to free the slaves.”
He didn’t let her go. “It’s not going to make a difference to you.”
He was obviously the type of man who had to have the last word. That being the case, she changed the subject.
“Let me go.”
“Why?”
She pried at his fingers. He had beautiful hands with long square-tipped fingers. And unfortunately, very strong.
“I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
She wasn’t going anywhere with him. “I can get there myself.”
“You’ll get lost.”
Her next tug got one finger loose. She took it as a positive sign. “I’ll take my chances.”
“No.”
Digging her elbow into his chest, she turned around until she could see his face. There was little more than an impression of full lips tucked inside a beard, and eyes full of pain. And intelligence? Yes, it stood to reason he was intelligent. Only an intelligent man could have defeated so many bandits in so short a time.
“It’s my life. I’ll do with it as I want.”
“I saved you.”
“So?”
“That makes it mine now.”
Damn. He meant it. She closed her eyes, trying to find the strength to deal with yet another determined male. Before she could find it, he was dragging her toward the woods. Oh no!
“My worry stone!”
He stopped dead. He couldn’t really understand what that bit of rock meant to her, could he?
“Where?”
“I dropped it when you jerked me off the horse.”
She expected him to ask her
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