A Perfect Hero by Samantha James Read Free Book Online Page A

temporary prison, she was glad it was at least a comfortable one. For it would be tempo rary, she promised herself. Clearly she wasn’t go ing anywhere, not yet anyway. And since it appeared she had all the time in the world to pon der her method of escape, that was exactly what she would do.
    ***
    Julianna spent the remainder of the day quietly. By evening, her headache had subsided, and she was feeling much better. She had no idea of the time, other than to gauge it by the color of the sky through the windows and the shadows seeping into the cottage. The night aged, and for a time she could see the moon shining high in the sky.
    Still the Magpie did not return.
    Her mind turned, refusing to be still. What if he’d been caught? Captured? What if he’d been strung up on the spot? No one would even know she was here, wherever the devil that was!
    The thought persisted. However much she dis liked the wretch, she certainly had no wish to see his neck stretched by a noose. Oddly, when she finally crawled into bed, it was this thought that kept her from sleep. Finally, she lit the bed side candle and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Maximilian had nosed his way beneath the cov ers and warmed her side. Miraculously, she had just begun to doze when she heard the key grate in the lock.
    The door swung wide. A rush of cool moist air accompanied his entrance.
    Julianna was instantly wide-awake.
    There was a bag slung over his shoulder. He handled it as though it weighed no more than a bag of feathers, depositing it across the room be side the other.
    He turned. His brows shot high. “So you’re awake! I trust you had a pleasant day?”
    Julianna leveled upon him a gaze of utter dis dain. Her newfound friend, Maximilian, had al ready deserted her. He’d bounded from the bed at the sound of the key in the lock. Leaping onto the table, he jumped to his master’s back and lay curled across his shoulders like a fur. In the back of her mind, it came to her that’s what she had seen when she first awoke—and to think she’d thought her captor a hunchback!
    Now two pairs of golden eyes surveyed her. He wore his arrogance like a medal of honor; it was there in the incline of his chin, the curl of his lips in that ever-so-confident smile.
    Clad in black from head to toe, the very sight of him made a shiver run through her. He filled every corner of the room in a way that was utterly foreign to her, in a way that had naught to do with size, though his height and breadth and brawn proved impossible to ignore! For it was more than that, much more. Had the cottage been a hundred times larger, it would have made no difference. There was something about him that set her insides to quivering like pudding. Like it or not, his was a presence all-powerful, all-consuming. He commanded the eye ...nay, he demanded it!
    No fop here. No dandified Corinthian. She could smell the wind in his hair, the earth on his skin. He was quite handsome—he, a highwayman! She was stung by the acknowledgment, then struck by the strangest notion that despite the wildness she sensed in him, here was a man who would have been at home in the most ele gant drawing rooms of the haut ton . It was a no tion that left her puzzled. Confused.
    Most shocking of all, consumed by utter fasci nation.
    Oh, the deuce take him! Whatever was wrong with her? The blow to her head must have addled her senses!
    “My dearest Julianna, you surprise me.” He tossed his mask aside and removed his cloak, hanging it over the hook.
    “My dearest Dane ,” she emphasized sweetly, “how so?” If he thought he could get the best of her, he was mistaken.
    He approached, sending prickles of awareness over her skin.
    “Under the circumstances, I might easily have had an hysterical female on my hands. But you do not call for your Maker. You do not call for help. Instead you seem quite calm.”
    Julianna glared. “What, do you have someone outside spying on me?”
    He threw back his head and