Prisoner of My Desire by Johanna Lindsey Read Free Book Online Page A

ago. And why would Gilbert bother, when the man had only to lie there and accept what was done to him? She was the one Gilbert had instructed, for she was the one who would be doing what must be done. But that question was there in his eyes…
    It was left to her to tell him, and she could not even reassure him that he would be released when it was over. Her anger surfaced again, this time wholly for his sake. He had done naught to deserve this. He was an innocent, snared in a monster’s plans. She would take his seed, but then Gilbert would take his life. Nay, she could not allow that. She would do the one, she had to for her mother’s sake, but somehow she must prevent the other. Somehow, she would help him escape when the time came, before she told Gilbert that his seed had taken, thereby ending the man’s usefulness.
    But she could not tell the man that. She would not give him false hope, in case she was unsuccessful in helping him. All she could do was try. And he did not need to know he was to die.There was no reason to tell him that. Let him think what he would, and why should he think that he would not be released when she was done with him?
    Again he was communicating with her with his eyes, and again she understood him. He was dropping his eyes down toward his gag, then looking at her again. He wanted her to remove it so he could speak to her. That she would not do, for she did not think she could bear it if he begged her for his release, adding more heavily to her guilt. She knew what she must do was wrong, but what choice did she have? But to hear him beseech her—nay, she could not.
    She shook her head slowly, and his own dropped back to the mattress so he no longer looked at her. If she did not know better, she would think she had been arrogantly dismissed, having denied him what he wanted. Like as not his neck was strained from being lifted so long. She came around to the side of the bed so he could see her without straining, but his eyes were closed now. He did not care that she stood there. Or mayhap he had not heard her approach in her bare feet.
    She paused now that she could see him more clearly. His big body truly filled the bed. She thought he might even be taller than Gilbert, though she could not be certain, but he was surely much broader of chest. His arms were thick and long, and well corded with muscle from shoulder to wrist. His shoulders, neck, and chest were likewise thickly muscled, the sun-gilded skin taut, with no softness to speak of.Whatever he did to earn his keep, ’twas obvious he worked hard at it. A woodcutter, mayhap. One on her father’s fief had been brawnier than any knight.
    She realized she was staring, but she could not help herself. Strong he was, very strong, and she found herself being thankful to Gilbert, after all, that the man was tied down, then was ashamed of the thought. Yet this man could easily snap her in two with his bare hands, and ’twas better for her that those hands could not reach her.
    “I am sorry,” she began, wondering why she whispered when they were alone. “’Tis better I do not hear what you have to say, but I can tell you why you are here.”
    His eyes opened again, his head turning slightly so he could stare at her. There was no question there now, no curiosity of any kind. Patience, she realized, was what he was displaying. He fully expected to have all his questions answered, but she was not as brave as that. She would tell him only what she had to and nothing more.
    But now that it was time to do so, she could feel heat stealing up her neck into her cheeks. “I—I—you and I—we—we must—we must—”
    The question was back in his eyes, and if he were not gagged, he would be shouting it. She could not blame him for losing his patience, but she could not say the word. She was too ashamed. She tried to remind herself that he was only a serf, and she had always been kind but firm with her servants, as her mother had taughther. But he