Wild Rain by Christine Feehan Read Free Book Online

was using a dull saw on her flesh? “And I didn’t exactly try to bash your head in. It wasn’t personal.”
    “The knife is to remove the leech from my back. I can’t reach it any other way,” he explained, although why he felt compelled to explain what should have been perfectly obvious, he didn’t know. “And I always take it personally when someone tries to remove my head from my shoulders.”
    She made a face. A silly, feminine expression of exasperation. And she did it with little white lines of pain etched around her mouth. It fascinated him, that wholly feminine expression. His stomach did a weird flip.
    “You don’t hear me complaining that your little pet chewed off my leg. Men are such babies. It isn’t even that big of a gash.”
    He had the urge to laugh. It came out of nowhere, blind-siding him, bursting over him unexpectedly. He didn’t laugh, of course; he frowned at her instead. “You put a hole in my head.”
    “You’re going to put a hole in your back with that knife. Stop being macho he-man and let me take that horrible thing off of you.”
    His eyebrow shot up. “You want me to put a knife in your hands, lady?”
    “Stop calling me lady, it’s becoming annoying.” Pain was beating at her so strongly now that she wanted to throw up again. It was definitely making it hard to think. She kept fear at bay with her usual chatter, but she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for much longer. And she dared not think what might happen then.
    “I don’t exactly know your name. Where I come from, lady is a compliment.”
    “Not in that tone of voice,” she objected. “Rachael Los...” she trailed off, casting around for a name, any name. She couldn’t think clearly; she’d already forgotten her new name, but it was imperative she hide her identity. Pain throbbed in her head, beat at her body. “Smith.”
    If it were possible, his eyebrow went higher. “Rachael Los Smith?” His mouth softened for the briefest of moments, a rusty attempt at a smile. Or a smirk. She couldn’t tell. Her vision was beginning to blur.
    Rio moved closer to her, his mouth once more twisting into a frown. “You’re sweating.” His palm settled on her forehead. “Do not get an infection. We’re stuck here without help for the duration of the storm.”
    “I’ll make sure I follow your orders, Rio, because I have the power to determine that, you know.” Rachael’s gaze followed the path of the knife as it moved close to her. “If you don’t let me help you now, I don’t think I’m going to be able to at all.” Her voice was funny, tinny and far away. “That awful leech is going to just stay there, getting high on your blood. Maybe it’s a girl leech and she’s going to have babies and they’ll all live on your back, sucking your blood. A little leech community. How perfectly lovely.”
    He muttered something under his breath.
    “And don’t swear at me or I’m going to cry. I’m doing my best here and you aren’t giving me anything to work with.”
    His fingers were gentle in her hair even though he didn’t mean to touch her. “Don’t you dare cry.” The thought was more alarming than someone coming at him with a gun. Her tears might turn him inside out. “The morphine is wearing off, isn’t it? I didn’t give you very much because I was afraid you’d go into shock.”
    A small humorless laugh escaped. She sounded on the verge of hysteria. “I am in shock. I think I lost my mind. I thought you turned into a leopard and tried to rip my throat out.”
    He slipped the tip of the knife between his back and the leech, flicked it to the floor and hastily disposed of it. “Leopards don’t rip throats out. They bite the throat and suffocate their prey.” He dipped a cloth into a cool bowl of water and sponged her face. “They’re tidy killers.”
    “Thanks for the information. I wouldn’t want to think my death would be a messy one.”
    Rio was uncomfortably aware of her gaze studying his