Looking for a Hero by Patti Berg Read Free Book Online Page B

She’s bleeding, can’t you see?”
    â€œâ€™Tis me who’s bleeding!” he bellowed, wondering when his words would penetrate her skull. “She sliced my throat, and I do believe she came damn near to cutting off my head.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Mommy. I was only playing,” Casey cried. “You have to fix the cut. Please.”
    The woman stared at him for the longest time with pursed lips and angry eyes. Her gaze traveled to his neck, to the child, and to the blade he was holding between them.
    Slowly he sheathed the cutlass. He’d never drawn a blade on a woman before. But he’d nevermet a woman from whom he’d had to protect himself.
    She stepped forward, yanked Casey from his arms, and set the child firmly on the ground, then moved protectively in front of her. He could see her fists clench at her sides. Her stern face was frozen like the figurehead on one of Her Majesty’s ships. God, but she was beautiful—in spite of her anger.
    â€œWere you planning to steal my boat?”
    â€œThe thought had crossed my mind.”
    â€œI suppose you were going to steal my daughter, too?”
    â€œI beg your pardon, madam, but I’m here because I mistakenly thought you might need my help. As for your daughter, she accosted me, not the other way around. Now, if you’ll stop blustering like a sea hag, we can get off this blasted island.”
    â€œYou can stay on this blasted island. We’re leaving.”
    â€œI thought you might tend to my wound.”
    â€œI’d rather see you dead.”
    â€œYou and a hundred others, madam. Perhaps you’ll get your wish if I continue to bleed.”
    â€œMy wishes rarely come true, so I doubt you’ll die.”
    Without taking her eyes off him, she picked up the child, then stormed away from the clearing, like the hurricane that had whipped across the island yesterday.
    What an impertinent, infuriating woman, thinkingshe could just walk away and leave him behind.
    He followed in her wake, taking full advantage of the view before him. She had shapely legs, not too long, not too short, nicely rounded hips, trim waist, and from what he remembered, she had a bosom that would pleasantly fill both his hands.
    She was carrying the child through the water when he reached shore. He would have carried them both had she waited, but she was in too big a hurry to get away from him.
    Without so much as a thank-you for staying behind or for getting her vessel back into the sea, she waded bosom deep, until they reached the ladder suspended over the side and climbed into the boat after her daughter.
    He stood on the beach, legs spread wide, his arms folded across his chest. “Is it your intention to leave without me?” he called out over the gently rolling waves.
    â€œYou got here of your own accord. I suggest you find your own way off the island.”
    â€œWould you leave me here to starve?”
    â€œI don’t give a damn what happens to you. You tried to kidnap my daughter.”
    â€œMust I argue that point yet again?”
    â€œMommy.” He heard the child’s soft wail. “You can’t leave him here. He might die, and I’m the one who hurt him.”
    The woman looked briefly at his neck—a cause of little concern to her, he was sure. She frowned at the weapons he had tucked into his belt, andthen her eyes traveled to the scar on his face, the patch on his eye.
    The girl tugged on her mother’s arm. “Please, Mommy.”
    â€œI don’t want that man anywhere near us,” she muttered to the child. The woman ignored him completely and set about hauling in the anchor.
    It had taken him a year to get off the island the first time he’d been marooned there, and he’d be damned if he’d let her leave him stranded again.
    Invitation or not, he was getting on that boat.
    Wading quickly through the water, he hoisted himself up the ladder and onto the