Reaper's Justice Read Free Page A

breathed steadily through her nose, trying to suppress the gagging urge as the wind swirled his odor around her. “Vomiting just happens. Threats will have no effect on my reaction.”
    The man in the black hat made a sound. Laughter?
    The bandit pulled a big knife. He held it near her face. It was ten times cleaner than his hand.
    “What do you say now?”
    “I’m relieved to see you keep your weapons clean, at least.”
    He blinked. She couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She was just too nervous to think straight. The knife caught the sunlight, flashing the glare back over her face. “It will not matter if the blade that kills you is dirty.”
    It would matter to her. “That makes sense.”
    His eyes narrowed to slits. “I cannot determine whether you are very brave or very stupid.”
    Well, she wasn’t brave. “Does it matter?”
    His mustache spread and his eyes crinkled at the corners. The aura of friendliness was disconcerting. And wrong, because it didn’t extend any deeper than his expression. His hand dropped away from her face. “No. Your value rests in other places. What is your name?”
    “Adelaide. What’s yours?”
    The mustache twitched. “You may call me José.”
    Not “my name is” but “you may call me,” which meant she didn’t have any more to give her cousins when they came for her. They weren’t going to be pleased. She’d have to do better or they’d chew her out.
    “Thank you.”
    José touched the knife to the tip of her right breast through her dress, gauging her reaction before dragging it down to her stomach, lingering at her navel. When she didn’t flinch, he slid it a few inches lower and poked it into the folds of her skirt between her legs.
    She forgot all about memorizing details and focused on controlling her reaction. She hadn’t expected this weakness in herself. She’d spent the whole afternoon going over in her mind all the possibilities about what might happen to her, and certainly being raped was number one on the list. She’d thought she’d prepared herself for the eventuality. Logically, she knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant, but she was sure she’d survive it. Common sense said the act was survivable. Otherwise, the ladies at the White Dove Saloon would be disappearing faster than Miss Niña could replace them.
    “Aren’t you in a hurry?”
    “Now, sí .”
    José pressed the knife until it dug into her skin. Much more and it would break through the protection of her dress and cut. She breathed slowly, hiding the panic inside.
    Now.
    The start of fear that went through her wasn’t logical at all. She knew all she had to do was survive until help arrived, but still, when faced with the carnal intent of this filthy man, feeling his gaze crawl over her, she shook inside with a fear that went beyond rational to primal. José laughed, a mean, nasty laugh, before sheathing his knife. He didn’t step away, just leaned in, overwhelming her with the reality of the threat as he sheathed his knife. “But we will have tonight.”
    Which left her no option but to come up with a plan before tonight. She would not lie down, willingly or unwillingly, with a man who did not understand the concept of hygiene. It was a firm statement—rational, logical, decisive. It was amazing how little it did to make her feel better. José gave her another look.
    “You are going to bring me a very good price.”
    She’d rather bring him a severe case of indigestion.
    He turned and gestured to the men. “Mount up. The day is wasting.”
    The men stood in haphazard order, including the man dressed all in black. She met his flat blue gaze. His mouth set in a straight line and then he turned his back on her, grabbing the saddlebag and tossing it over his horse’s flanks with more force than necessary. He acted for all the world as if he was mad at her. As if she’d asked for three men to break into her house and disrupt her evening reading. She