Rogue's Hostage by Linda McLaughlin Read Free Book Online Page A

down one cheek, and she brushed it away. She would die before she let him see her cry.
    "I can’t hear you." The warning came from just on the other side of the fern.
    "Don’t come any closer," she cried in alarm. She didn’t trust him to respect her privacy, despite the fact that he’d called himself a "gentleman." From the way he’d said the word, he didn’t believe that himself.
    "Do you need some help?"
    "No!" Hurriedly she pulled another chemise from her pouch. Standing, she awkwardly unfastened her skirt, using her left hand as much as possible. At last free of the dripping garment, she threw it over the fern in the direction of his voice. A sopping wet petticoat soon followed.
    Then, clad only in the chemise and her shawl, Mara took a deep breath and walked back into the clearing. Corbeau had changed into a dry breechclout but wore no shirt, just the blood-stained bandage on his shoulder. It probably needed changing, but she was not going to volunteer.
    After spreading their wet clothing on the grass to dry, Mara sat by the stream, soaking her aching wrist in the cold water, lost in her own dismal thoughts.
    Corbeau paced the clearing, reminding her of a chained dog. He was all bronzed skin and lean, sinewy muscle. She kept silent, sensing the barely leashed fury that coiled within him.
    He turned and stared at her with hooded eyes, like a bird of prey that had sighted its next meal. She shivered, unable to look away. After what seemed like an eternity, he resumed his pacing. Mara breathed a sigh of relief.
    When it grew dark, Corbeau spread their blankets side by side, but not touching. "Get some sleep," he ordered in a gruff voice that left no room for argument. "I’ll keep watch."
    She lay down and rolled up in her blanket, but sleep refused to come. Her mind kept replaying scenes from the last two days. What could she have done differently? What other course had been open to her? Was there no way out of this predicament?
    Suddenly an unholy screech filled the night.
    Mara jumped up and gripped Corbeau by the arm. "What was that?" The cry came again, long and mournful, sounding much closer.
    "Mountain lion," he muttered.
    "My God, we’ll be eaten alive."
    Corbeau snatched his musket, checked the priming, and put more wood on the fire. When he spoke, his voice was soft but edged with steel. "Now do you see how foolish you were to run away? Would you really want to be out here alone?"
    Mara shuddered at the thought but said nothing. Being here with him was just as dangerous.
    Her grandfather had warned her about men like Corbeau—immoral, shameless, self-indulgent rogues who took what they wanted without a thought for the consequences. He was everything she instinctively feared—strong, virile, and dangerous. Still, he had comforted her after her nightmare, proving himself capable of tenderness, at least when it suited his purpose.
    He was also ruthless and single-minded, she reminded herself. In a word, uncivilized, and she did not dare trust him.
    Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, she moved closer to the fire. Light from the flames flared and danced, making the dark shadows of the forest seem to move. Anxiously she stared into the night, her ears alert to every sound.
    Gideon’s face swam into her memory. Surely he would come after her. As long as there was hope—that the French would be defeated, that Gideon would find her—she could survive. She could endure anything fate threw at her, as long as she had hope.
    "Who is Gideon?"
    "What?" Startled, she turned toward Corbeau. Had he read her mind? "How do you know that name?"
    Firelight flickered on the taut line of his jaw. "You called out for him in your sleep last night. Is he the reason you ran away? He must be very special if you would brave this wilderness to return to him."
    "Gideon is…" The word brother was on the tip of her tongue, but why should she tell him anything? Let him think what he liked. Instead she said, "Gideon is a major in the Royal