Midnight Warrior by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online

hardness into her tone. “Or I will do nothing.”
    He lifted those ice-blue eyes to her face, and again fear went through her. “What did you say?”
    She moistened her dry lips. “You heard me. I will not have your interference or questions. You must leave me alone with him.”
    “Must?” He echoed silkily. “I have no liking for that word.”
    “Must,” she repeated. Sweet Mary, he looked as if he were going to strike her down. Well, she had been struck before and survived. It was unreasonable to fear a blow from this stranger. She met his gaze with a boldness she did not feel. “If you wish him to live. I will call you if I think the end grows near.”
    “I’m going to stay.”
    He was staring at her with anger and frustration, willing her to submission, and she had never encountered a stronger will. She felt her own determination wavering like a tree in the wind, but she must not give in. “Then you will stay and watch him die. For I will do nothing. Is that what you wish?”
    His big hands opened and closed at his sides as his gaze fastened on her throat. She half expected him to reach over Malik’s body and throttle her.
    “
Damn
you.” He rose to his feet and strode toward the tent entrance. “I’ll give you until dawn alone with him.” He paused and looked back over his shoulder. Shebarely kept herself from flinching at the menace in his expression. “I have no liking for being ordered about. I’ve spent my life endeavoring to make sure it will never happen. After Malik is well, I’ll remember this.”
    He was gone.
    She expelled a deep breath of relief. His presence in the tent had been like a storm cloud hovering over her. Now she could concentrate on trying to heal rather than defending herself.
    A storm. Yes, that was an apt description of Gage Dumont. She had practically felt the turbulence and lightning flash around her while he had been in the tent. She had been surprised at the rush of power and exhilaration she had experienced when she had been forced to challenge the Norman, but it was foolish to seek out excitement when peace and serenity were clearly the most valuable of prizes. As a child she had been fascinated by storms, but that was long ago. She had suffered too much during these past three years to ever want more than the quiet forests of Gwynthal.
    She reached out and touched Malik’s temple. She could feel the faint pulse beneath her fingertips. “He’s gone now,” she whispered. “What a strange, upsetting friend you have, Malik. I think we’ll be much better off without him. We’ll just sit here and talk and presently I’ll rub some of my special salve on that ugly wound. You don’t really wish to stay where you are. It may seem peaceful and sweet, but there is still so much waiting for you here.” She moved her hand to just above the wound. “Now, what shall we talk about? Not battles. They sicken me almost as much as they have hurt you. Shall I tell you about my Gwynthal? I’m going back there soon and I believe you would like it. It may be like the place you’re at right now. No, it’s much better.” She settled herself more comfortably beside him. “The forests are cool and quiet and yet around every corner you find something wondrous … a night-blooming floweror a bird you’ve never seen before. Then you walk a little farther and you see a waterfall that cascades over rocks that sparkle in the sunlight.…”
    The cold, crisp air that struck him as he left the tent did nothing to cool Gage’s temper.
    He felt like strangling the wench. He had been within a heartbeat of closing his hands on that soft throat and squeezing until she begged for mercy.
    “She cast you out?” Lord Richard asked.
    Gage impatiently glanced toward the campfire where Richard sat with his hands outstretched before the flames.
    “I was afraid she would treat you rudely,” Richard said. “She never permitted anyone in the chamber when she tended my wife. If she hadn’t been