Dangerous Joy Read Free Page B

womanly scent and that delicate touch of rose. She was undoubtedly lacking some of her wits, though, for she was still struggling to free him by stretching her arms around him.
    Why the devil didn't she just go around the back?
    He tried to say something but only achieved a choking noise.
    Still fumbling behind his head, she looked down at him, her beautiful eyes only inches away. She had long dark lashes so thick they seemed tangled with soot, but in this light there was no way to tell what color her irises were. They looked coal-black, which gave her an expression of unending concern.
    He reminded himself that this was illusion, and that she didn't seem to have enough wit to come in from the rain.
    He mumbled again, practically snarling at her.
    "Oh, dear, oh dear. You poor man. Are you in terrible pain? Oh, I have an idea! Let me try to do this from the back."
    She shifted around and sat him forward. Within moments, the gag was off.
    Miles worked his aching jaw and tried to find saliva to moisten his mouth. "Drink?" he croaked.
    "Oh, sir. Of course, sir!" She pulled a flask out of the pocket of her old-style full skirts and uncapped it. "Sure, and this'll revive you in a wink, sir! " She held it to his lips and tipped.
    Instinctively, he swallowed, but then he jerked back so most went down his front.
    "What ails you, sir? "Tis the finest Irish whisky! I swear it on my mother's grave!"
    Miles coughed. "I'm sure it is, my dear. But it's not the thing for the thirst I have. Is there no water?"
    She leapt to her feet, her hands—now around the flask—once more clasped to that bosom. "What a fool I am, to be sure! I'll not be a moment, sir."
    She dashed to the door, then froze as if caught in a terrible dilemma. She frowned at the flask in her hand, then at Miles, then left-pouring the contents on the ground as she went.
    Miles lay there, stunned. Definitely simple. It might be true that there was nothing else in which to carry water, but why the devil hadn't she just finished untying him so he could make his own way to the stream?
    He sighed, recognizing another stroke of genius on someone's part. If he were unlikely to throttle a woman, he'd be even less likely to harm such a simple one. Some men, however, would not hesitate to take what that ample, exposed bosom offered.
    Had they thought of that?
    Perhaps it was part of the plan.
    Again, his unruly body reacted.
    She came back to hold the flask to his lips again. This time, cool, sweet water soothed his mouth.
    "Thank you, my dear," he said, as calmly as he could, for he had no desire to alarm her. "Perhaps now you could untie my hands and feet."
    She sat back on her heels and put a finger to her lips like a child. "Well, now, you see, sir, I was told to be very careful with you. That you might turn violent."
    "Then perhaps one of those fine bullies should have accompanied you."
    "It was thought on," she admitted, chewing her knuckle. "It was never intended that you be hurt, sir."
    Miles's jaw was aching from the way his teeth were clenched, but he knew the slightest trace of anger could have this poor woman fleeing into the night. "I realize that," he soothed. "I promise I will not hurt you. Untie me, please. These ropes are very painful."
    She gnawed on her knuckle a moment more, then stood and raised her skirt to reveal white stockings and sturdy shoes. They argued a slightly higher rank than he'd imagined. But what the devil was she doing?
    The skirts rose a little farther, rose slowly so his gaze seemed guided by them-up shapely, cotton-covered calves; past a simple garter tied below the knee; and on to a creamy, naked thigh. He was bemusedly wondering just where this journey was to end when it halted at a leather strap holding a sheath. She pulled out a knife so long and businesslike that he instinctively shrank back.
    Blade glinting in the candlelight, she grinned at him, then flung herself forward. Miles cursed and tried to wriggle away, but she seized the rope