Read Online Bride of the Night by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page A

ethic.
    And, of course, Finn thought, what a waste if shewere to hang. Even now, in half-dry, tattered clothing, hair tangled in clumps around her features, she was stunning. The same uncanny beauty he’d reflected upon since Gettysburg. She had a perfect face, with large eyes that dominated the fine, slender structure of her cheeks and jawline. Her brows were clean and even and fly-away, and if she were to smile…
    She didn’t smile. “You’re in a Southern state, you fool,” she told him.
    â€œThere’s a massive Union fort down at the tip, in case you hadn’t noticed. And let’s see, the Union has held St. Augustine since ’62. Plus, there’s a host of Union sailors about to land on this little islet, while I’m not seeing any boys in butternut and gray marching along the sand to save you. Oh—and since we’re at war, I think I’m doing okay,” he told her pleasantly.
    To his amazement, she smiled, giving no resistance.
    And then she did.
    He had eased his hold to something far too gentle; she was small, but apparently built of steel. She suddenly shoved him aside with exceptional strength, kicked out hard, catching him entirely by surprise and with a sound assault, and leaped to her feet.
    â€œAss!” she hissed.
    And he was, of course, because she was gone.
    Â 
    I T WAS EASY ENOUGH to escape him; she could move quietly and with the speed of light when she chose. Of course, she was exhausted, and laden with the heavinessof the salt water still soaked into her clothing. And still, she had managed to take him by surprise.
    As he had done with her.
    But now she knew; now, she would not take her eyes off him.
    Even with this resolve, her heart sank; she was certain that he was telling the truth. The Yankee ship was going to go down, but not as Richard’s Peace had.
    The men aboard the Union ship had survived, and they would be coming to the island.
    Trying to keep a step ahead of him, and draw him away from Richard, she headed toward the western side of the island. Moving through the trees and brush, she burst out somewhere near the southwest, at a copse leading straight out to the water, to an inlet where old coral formed some kind of a seawall.
    She bent over, breathing hard, pondering her next move— her way to save Richard —when she heard his voice again, and jackknifed instantly to a straightened position.
    â€œYou are stubborn, my dear. But you’ll not get away. Not this time.”
    She stared at him, incredulous. How was he standing before her? How had he reached the copse before she had managed to?
    â€œYou’re supposedly some kind of officer of the law, is that what it is? Well, you’re insane. I wasn’t in Gettysburg to hurt anyone. And I’m not hurting anyone on this island. What, did they put you in charge of theblockade? Are you trying to starve women and children?” she demanded.
    â€œI’m not in charge of the blockade. And the blockade isn’t to starve anyone, but instead to stop a war, and any reasonable student of military history is surely aware of that fact. But, no, I’m not in charge of the blockade. I’m in charge of rounding up would-be assassins.”
    Up close, within an arm’s breadth, he did tower well over her and, while he appeared lean in what remained of his white cotton shirt, muscle rippled at his chest where the buttons had given way from throat to midabdomen. She looked into his eyes, however; his physical prowess was not something that really worried her.
    â€œThere are no assassins on this island,” she said. “In fact, this is my home. You’re rude. You’re trespassing.”
    â€œYou came off the blockade runner. This is not your home.”
    â€œIt’s certainly far more my home than it is yours, or the North’s.”
    â€œIt’s not a qualifying point at all—this island is deserted, and you came off the blockade