Legends Read Free Page B

Kincaid’s dog licked her hand anxiously.
    “Sssh, now, he’ll be fine,” she said soothingly, stroking the dog’s broad, golden head. “It’s me you should be worrying over, lad. I won’t get out of this as well off as you and your grand friend here.”
    Rob touched her arm. “Go up and sit with the others, Ellie. I’m going to change his clothes.”
    “No. I’ll help.” At Rob’s grim silence she glanced up. “Brother of mine, I was married for twelve years, you know. A man’s body is nothing new to me. And if I’m going to be alone with this one for a whole month, I’ll probably see more of him than I ever wanted.”
    He cursed softly. “I must have been crazy when we decided this plan. A true man wouldn’t let his sister—”
    “A true man knows when his sister is the best choice for a job. Now stop worrying!”
    “If anything goes awry—”
    “I’ll have done what my heart and soul told me to do. Now come. Let’s get this great, vain beast into some practical clothes.”
    Together they began undressing Douglas Kincaid. By the time they finished Elgiva was quivering inside from touching him, and she knew for certain that living alone with him for the next month would be more dangerous than she’d ever imagined.

Two
    Douglas opened his eyes to a whitewashed wooden ceiling crisscrossed with rough beams. A small war raged inside his head, while a train was passing through the battleground. He must be hallucinating from the pain of his headache, he thought, because he distinctly heard the rhythmic click-clack of its wheels.
    Slowly he turned his head to one side. His vision cleared. He studied a wall made of thick planks with mortar between them. There were rough-hewn white shelves filled with books on the whitewashed wall. There was also a map of a coastline and ocean that looked very familiar, though he couldn’t think clearly enough to identify it at the moment.
    He moved tentatively and became aware of soft textures against his skin—comfortable, friendly textures. He smelled the sweet-spicy scent of a wood fire, and his ears picked up the crackle and pop of burning logs. The train continued to click-clack across his mental landscape, however, reminding him of the Chicago train stations where he had hawked household soaps as a boy. Any second now a cop would walk up and say, “You little jerk, get out of here! I’m not tellin’ ya again!”
    Douglas shut his eyes and frowned wearily. Whycouldn’t the cop see that he needed the money? Why did he always have to give up his territory? Never again. Never again. He wished the sound of the train would stop.
    It did. But he heard the cop walking toward him. Hey, he wanted to shout, send some goon from public works to fix that floor. It creaks. And hey, flat-foot, you walk like a girl.
    “Just lay still and let the waking come slowly,” a soft female voice said. “You’re not hurt or anything; just a wee bit hung over from the drug. As soon as you can get up to reach it, I’ll bring you a cup of hot tea. If you’re a bit queasy, there’s a small room with your own private facilities in the corner. I’ve provided you with all the comforts of home, Douglas.”
    The speaker’s Scottish burr jolted his memory; so did the cool undertone in it. Worried and confused, he raised his hands to his face and rubbed vigorously. Then he turned his head toward the voice and opened his eyes.
    A beautiful redhead stood a few feet away, her arms crossed casually over her chest. She was dressed in a bulky white sweater and a flowing peasant skirt of a rich yellow-and-black plaid. Embroidered white socks disappeared under the skirt’s calf-length hem. On her feet were lace-up leather shoes, sturdy and worn looking.
    Her chestnut hair hung in a long braid that draped over one shoulder, ending at her breasts. She watched him with stern, amber-colored eyes. Behind her he saw the train. It was a spinning wheel.
    It was a tribute to her appeal that he noticed