Read Online A Perfect Hero by Samantha James - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Samantha James
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that filled his mind. His heart seemed to sputter, then resumed with hard, thudding strokes. A sensation of blinding heat was spreading through his chest. He couldn’t breathe. Was this how it would happen then...? God rot it, this scrap of a woman had managed what Napoleon’s army could not do. His knees weakened. Damnation! He would not swoon like a woman—by God, he would not! Yet fear washed through him—the secret fear that no one knew of. A hundred things passed through his mind in that instant.
Still stunned, he raised incredulous eyes to hers. But she wasn’t there...Sweet Christ, he might die...and the chit was rifling through his pockets.
After that blasted key.
The sound was deafening. Hearing it, Julianna dropped the pistol; she was dimly aware of it clat tering across the floor. For the space of a heart beat, she couldn’t see. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air before her and burned her throat. When it cleared, she saw him.
The shot had brought him to his knees.
A curious haze seemed to surround her; she saw herself as if through a dark mist. Almost be fore she knew what she was about, she was at his side, thrusting her hand into the pockets of his breeches.
She emerged with the key to the door.
It glinted in her palm, catching the light from the window. She stared at it dumbly for an in stant, then scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping in her haste. Bolting toward the door, she thrust the key in the lock; it clattered to the floor. With a cry she bent to retrieve it. Straightening, she looked from the key in her palm, back to his face.
Little did she realize it was a moment that would change her life forever.
Dane was wavering, his expression one of sheer disbelief. Julianna stood motionless, paralyzed by what she glimpsed there. Something naked. Something vulnerable. Something almost pleading.
She wasn’t quite sure what she’d intended. Her thoughts were a wild scramble in her brain. She’d closed her eyes ...she had no conscious recol lection of pulling the trigger. The next thing she knew there was that dreadful explosion, and her ears were ringing.
She, who had always thought herself a tender hearted soul ...had just shot a man.
A sickening sense of shame spilled through her. What had she done? She was appalled. Horrified at her own behavior. She’d only meant to frighten him ...a silly notion, that! As if a high wayman would be afraid of her !
But at least he wasn’t dead. At least not yet anyway. She darted back toward him.
He was looking up at her. Gritting his teeth, he fought to stay upright. “Go,” he said tightly. “Just go, damn you!”
But she couldn’t. She knew then she couldn’t leave him.
The effort seemed to expend all his strength. He pitched forward on the floor.
Kneeling beside him, Julianna shook his good shoulder, as if to jar him awake. “No!” she cried desperately. “No!”
Wrapping her arms around him, she tried to turn him over.
His eyes flickered open. He stared at her, al most as if he was angry. She knew it when his brows drew together fiercely over his nose. “Why the devil are you still here?”
“I shot you,” she said grimly. “Now I’m going to save you.”
He was right. There was blood. A good deal of it.
He had turned to his back. A bright red stain was blooming on the front of his shirt. Franti cally, Julianna dug her fingers into the opening and ripped it away. Blood welled, pooling above his heart, thick and dark and crimson. Looking at it, the bitter taste of bile burned her throat.
“Julianna. Julianna.”
The sound of her name wrenched her gaze to his.
Dane had pushed himself to a sitting position. “You’re going to have to help me, kitten.”
Julianna took a deep breath. Steadying her nerves, she slid her shoulder beneath his and slid an arm around his back. In truth she wasn’t much help; his frame was too large. He’d have pinned her cold if he’d fallen. It was his own strength that got him to the
Still stunned, he raised incredulous eyes to hers. But she wasn’t there...Sweet Christ, he might die...and the chit was rifling through his pockets.
After that blasted key.
The sound was deafening. Hearing it, Julianna dropped the pistol; she was dimly aware of it clat tering across the floor. For the space of a heart beat, she couldn’t see. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air before her and burned her throat. When it cleared, she saw him.
The shot had brought him to his knees.
A curious haze seemed to surround her; she saw herself as if through a dark mist. Almost be fore she knew what she was about, she was at his side, thrusting her hand into the pockets of his breeches.
She emerged with the key to the door.
It glinted in her palm, catching the light from the window. She stared at it dumbly for an in stant, then scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping in her haste. Bolting toward the door, she thrust the key in the lock; it clattered to the floor. With a cry she bent to retrieve it. Straightening, she looked from the key in her palm, back to his face.
Little did she realize it was a moment that would change her life forever.
Dane was wavering, his expression one of sheer disbelief. Julianna stood motionless, paralyzed by what she glimpsed there. Something naked. Something vulnerable. Something almost pleading.
She wasn’t quite sure what she’d intended. Her thoughts were a wild scramble in her brain. She’d closed her eyes ...she had no conscious recol lection of pulling the trigger. The next thing she knew there was that dreadful explosion, and her ears were ringing.
She, who had always thought herself a tender hearted soul ...had just shot a man.
A sickening sense of shame spilled through her. What had she done? She was appalled. Horrified at her own behavior. She’d only meant to frighten him ...a silly notion, that! As if a high wayman would be afraid of her !
But at least he wasn’t dead. At least not yet anyway. She darted back toward him.
He was looking up at her. Gritting his teeth, he fought to stay upright. “Go,” he said tightly. “Just go, damn you!”
But she couldn’t. She knew then she couldn’t leave him.
The effort seemed to expend all his strength. He pitched forward on the floor.
Kneeling beside him, Julianna shook his good shoulder, as if to jar him awake. “No!” she cried desperately. “No!”
Wrapping her arms around him, she tried to turn him over.
His eyes flickered open. He stared at her, al most as if he was angry. She knew it when his brows drew together fiercely over his nose. “Why the devil are you still here?”
“I shot you,” she said grimly. “Now I’m going to save you.”
He was right. There was blood. A good deal of it.
He had turned to his back. A bright red stain was blooming on the front of his shirt. Franti cally, Julianna dug her fingers into the opening and ripped it away. Blood welled, pooling above his heart, thick and dark and crimson. Looking at it, the bitter taste of bile burned her throat.
“Julianna. Julianna.”
The sound of her name wrenched her gaze to his.
Dane had pushed himself to a sitting position. “You’re going to have to help me, kitten.”
Julianna took a deep breath. Steadying her nerves, she slid her shoulder beneath his and slid an arm around his back. In truth she wasn’t much help; his frame was too large. He’d have pinned her cold if he’d fallen. It was his own strength that got him to the
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