Wicked Whispers by Tina Donahue Read Free Book Online Page B

against her tongue, cheeks, and fingers.
    She had to stop thinking such things. “Isabella’s.”
    “Isabella’s what?”
    “She has my books at the castle.”
    “Fernando’s? Why?”
    She regarded the wrappings on her hands rather than him. “Should anyone question my actions and send the authorities for me, a search of my castle will yield them nothing, especially my books. Whatever happens—”
    “Nothing will. Not to you.”
    She slumped. “The books will still be safe and available to another woman.”
    “Why are you always worried about everyone else rather than yourself?” He leaned toward her, gripping the seat of his chair. “Why do you insist on putting yourself in such danger?”
    She gestured to Maria.
    He fell silent. She did too, her fatigue too great to resist. Closing her eyes, she kept alert to any sounds Maria would make.
    The girl was blessedly silent, allowing Sancha to recall the celebration, the thrill and worry of having Enrique next to her. Their moments on the balcony. His concern and kindness here, followed by his quick anger when he believed she was careless with her safety.
    She had no choice. Death wouldn’t wait for the world to grow fair for everyone. She had to do what she could while there was time. Endless people needed saving, their health and lives restored. She pictured her patients recovering only to grow ill once more. Inquisitors nearby, watching, waiting, ready to pounce.
    A hand rested on her arm. She flinched and struggled to open her eyes, her lids gritty with sleep.
    The child’s uncles lay sprawled on the floor, one snoring loudly. Maria’s mother still watched over her daughter, the child’s face slack with slumber, no pain etching her features.
    Sancha stifled a yawn.
    “We should go.” Enrique squeezed her arm gently. “You need real rest in a bed. Twice, I had to keep you from falling off your chair.”
    He had? “I feel fine now.”
    “Will the child heal faster if you force yourself to stay awake so you can watch her sleep?”
    She refused to smile at his teasing. “You know she would not, though a vigil is comforting.” She straightened and tried to shake off her fatigue. “Maria’s uncles are clearly too tired to see me back to the castle. They need their rest. I have no intention of disturbing them.”
    “I agree. You and I can ride together on my horse.”
    “No.” To have him pressed to her was more than she could allow.
    “I see. Have you suddenly lost your desire to defy convention or was I correct that you trust me so little?”
    She didn’t trust herself. She’d proven how weak her flesh was when they’d been on the balcony. To have the excuse of riding behind him would prove too tempting, her hands roaming his chest, firm belly, thighs, the area between his legs.
    She shook her head. “We both risk injury if you fall off your horse because you need sleep.”
    “I have never been more alert and will protect you.”
    He would undo her resolve as surely as the sun rose each morning.
    Before Sancha could counter him, he left his chair and approached Maria’s mother. “Will you be able to care for your child when she awakes?”
    “Nothing will stop me.” She turned to Sancha. “I remember everything you said I should do. If Maria needs you again, I promise to send word.”
    “Never speak of what happened here to anyone,” Enrique said. “Do you understand?”
    She drew back at his suddenly harsh tone. “I know what trouble gossip can bring, and so do the others in the village. They too may need help someday.” She glanced at Sancha. “You saved my daughter’s life. I owe you my own. No one will ever make me betray you.”
    After embracing the woman, Sancha checked the linen covering Maria’s wound. Everything was as it should be. With naught to delay her, she followed Enrique outside, her heart pounding. The coming dawn tinted the horizon orange, pink, and pale blue, colors that seemed more vivid this morning than they had