Hawk's Prize by Elaine Barbieri Read Free Book Online Page B

unexpectedly and his hand grasped her wrist with bone-snapping strength. Her heart pounded strangely while his gaze searched hers for silent moments before his eyelids drooped closed again.
    Tricia remained momentarily still when he released her. In that moment of silent communication betweenthem, his message had been clear. He was ill, but he would not surrender control easily.
    No, he would not tolerate having someone take his leg without his consent. Neither, she suspected, would he give his consent, no matter what the cost.
    An unidentifiable emotion twisted tight inside Tricia. She could not let him lose his leg.
    But the cloths were warming and the water in the bucket no longer helped. She needed to go down to the pump in the rear of the yard to draw cold water directly from the well. Yet she hesitated to leave him.
    With no other recourse, Tricia leaned close and whispered into his unhearing ear, “I have to go downstairs for a few minutes, but I’ll come back as fast as I can.” She added earnestly, “Don’t worry. I won’t desert you.”
    Sounds of animalistic passion rent the silence of Simon’s bordello room as he flipped Angie’s naked body over and thrust himself into her roughly from behind. Her pained protest excited him and he pumped hard against her. She was hot for him, was she? He wouldn’t get the best of her this time? He’d see about that.
    “Stop! Stop! You’re hurting me!”
    Breathless with his growing fervor, Simon bit Angie’s bare back cruelly. He smiled when she whimpered, and he muttered, “What did you say, Angie? You want me to stop?”
    “Yes . . . yes.”
    “Are you
begging
me to stop, Angie?”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “Let me hear the word I want to hear.”
    “Please.”
    “Once more.”
    “Please stop!”
    His passion accelerating at her tearful plea, Simon continued thrusting recklessly inside her. Grunting his final release, he shuddered to a halt and then withdrew from her at last to say triumphantly, “You lose again, Angie.”
    Breathing heavily, Angie turned over to face him. She brushed away a tear and managed a pained smile as she whispered, “Who says I lost, Simon? You? I got what I wanted, and in a few minutes I’ll be as good as new and ready to go back downstairs.”
    Not allowing Angie to see that her response had angered him, Simon said snidely, “Or maybe I’ll keep you here for another round.”
    “No! I mean—”
    Seeing the fear that Angie had inadvertently revealed, Simon laughed coldly. “I know what you mean.”
    He stood up and walked toward the washstand.
    Unwilling to admit defeat, Angie watched him as she drew herself to her feet, reached for her dress, and said harshly, “No, you don’t know what I mean. I mean I have information for you about that blond-haired tart you were salivating over in the hallway.”
    “Blond-haired tart—”
    Angie replied with a hint of irritation in her tone, “I saw you. I was watching in the hallway while you played the fool for that pretentious slut, and I heard what she said. Chantalle backed her up, but I know better. She’s no better than any one of us here.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “She’s the daughter of a whore, all right, but she’s not Chantalle’s daughter. Chantalle saved her from this ‘fate worse than death’ that all we women here are supposed to be suffering, but her blood is just as tainted as ours. She proved it by following that stranger who collapsed downstairs into a room at the end of the hall, and by telling everybody to leave her alone with him while she undressed him. And he’s hardly conscious!” Angie gave a hard laugh. “It doesn’t matter to her what condition he’s in, or that he’s a down-and-out Confederate who has nothing to offer but his body, just as long as she can get what she wants.”
    “How do you know all this?”
    “Because I made it my business to find out; because I know it pays well if I do; because I don’t like women like her who put on