'Til the End of Time by Iris Johansen Read Free Book Online Page B

later, she assured herself drowsily. “I don’t need you to look after me, Karpathan. I can take care of myself.” She didn’t question the impulse that led her to cuddle closer, even as she murmured, “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
    Within a few minutes she had drifted off to sleep. Karpathan carefully shifted his position to slide his arm around her shoulders. Even in sleep she tensed with wariness before relaxing again. Soldiers in the field often developed an alertness that followed them into unconsciousness, and he had been forced to learn it himself. But how and where had the pampered mistress of an industrialist acquired the instinct? She was an enigma.
    Moving with caution to avoid alerting those instincts, he slowly brought her close until her cheek was resting on his shoulder. Her hair smelled faintly floral, and he lowered his head to breathein the scent that clung to her skin. The fragrance was as individual, basic, and full-bodied as Alessandra herself.
    He supposed he should try to go to sleep, though the possibility was extremely unlikely. His arousal was responding to the touch and scent of her with aching sharpness. He drew a shuddering breath and then wished he hadn’t. The lush, seductive woman scent was going straight from his head to his loins. His lower body moved in a thrusting, yearning movement against her. God, he was hurting. Control. He had to maintain control. By some miracle Alessandra had been persuaded to trust him, and he mustn’t betray her. He had an idea she gave her trust with great rarity. His arms tightened around her for a brief moment. Let her go. He knew he had to let her go, but, dammit, he … He set his teeth and forced his arms to loosen and then withdraw entirely from around her.
    He gazed unseeingly into the darkness. His muscles were stiff and unyielding as he tried to fasten his thoughts on something, anything to keep them away from the woman whose cheek still lay pillowed so trustingly in the hollow of his shoulder.

Three
    “A
labone
is a
sewer
? No wonder you told your friend I’d need a raincoat.” Alessandra gazed distastefully at the round, gaping mouth of the manhole. “I presume it’s damp as hell down there.”
    Sandor nodded. “Sorry. Belajo is a very old city, and the walls of the sewer system have a tendency to spring leaks.” He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “But you’ll be glad to know I’ve seen only a few rats when I’ve been down there.”
    “How very comforting,” she said dryly as she edged closer to the manhole. She shivered and drew the folds of the black oilcloth poncho closer to her body. She wasn’t sure if the shiver was caused by the thought of going down into the darkness of another unknown labyrinth or from the predawn chill. She should have suspected Karpathan would have an unpleasant surprise for her when he had led her to this alley behind Jannot’s café. She didn’t like burrowing aroundbeneath the ground, dammit. “I’m going to present you with a formidable bill very soon, Karpathan. I’m definitely going to get you.”
    “I hope so,” he murmured as he watched her negotiate the first rungs of the ladder. “Or vice versa.”
    She glanced up and had to smother a smile. She was grateful it was still dark and the smile went unnoticed. She wouldn’t have wanted him to know of the strangely companionable mood she’d found herself experiencing since he’d wakened her twenty minutes earlier.
    After a night spent in his arms, she was having problems convincing herself he was still the enemy. It was really a pity. He would have made a wonderful comrade in the old days. Together they would have run rings around the guards, and he wouldn’t have been intolerant of Dimitri, as the others had been.…
    “There are several inches of water in the sewer. When you reach the bottom rung, step to the left. There’s a foot-wide ledge that’s usually above the water level. Be careful. I can’t risk