Read Online Desired by Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Novel) by Cynthia Luhrs - Free Book Online Page A

sigh, he stood up from his slouch as Ian entered with what he’d asked for.
    “Captain, I’ve brought what ye needed. And some clean clothes for the lady.” Ian stood there gawking at their unconscious guest.
    “Aye, thank ye lad.”
    “Um, Cap’n?”
    “What is it?”
    “The lady smells awful bad, even with the window open. Shall I have a bath drawn?” His cabin boy screwed up his nose in distaste.
    A grin touched his face. “Aye, the stench is worse than the back alley of a butcher shop. Draw a bath and once I’m done, burn her clothing and all the linens or they’ll stink up me whole ship.”
    Ian agreed and went to fetch the tub. Robert focused on his unwanted guest. There was another avenue…maybe this was simply some kind of measure of loyalty to Thorne. Fine. All he had to do was play along and be nice to the woman but he wasn’t telling her about the curse. Let the week run its course and see. If at the end of the week, he was doomed—cue the foreboding music, he’d parlay with his commander and make a new bargain. The way he looked at it, the god needed him for the war that was fast approaching. In the meantime, he’d get to know the lass, love her for the time they had together as he’d loved so many before her. A strangled laugh broke free from his throat. Damn the fates and damn Thorne for fucking with him. No way was he falling for the wanker’s little game or test or whatever they called it. No one bested him—after all, he was Black Bart, the most fearsome pirate who’d ever sailed the seas, and he’d be damned to hell and back before he let Thorne win.
    Of all the times to be without his powers this was the worst. Swearing under his breath, Robert grumbled. Would have been so much easier to heal her and send her on her way but he was stuck with her and he’d make the best of it. Wasn’t her fault she was drawn into Thorne’s little game.
    Alas, he could do nothing for her suffering thanks to her starting the bloody clock ticking. Powerless for a blasted week. Had to rely on whatever skills he’d honed prior to becoming a Shadow Walker or what he’d learned since. The fever would have to run its course, the wound must heal on its own.
    While Ian was doing Robert’s bidding, he moved closer to the woman. Normally he had a doctor on board but the man’s grandfather had passed so Robert gave him leave to attend to the funeral and other details. Not to mention the thought of someone else touching her made Robert uncomfortable. So instead he’d tend her and call Doc Jones to find out what else to do for the lass. Robert pulled the water from the heat, dipped a washcloth and gently cleaned the wound. Washed it out, finishing it by pouring whisky over it. Did the same to the cut on her hand. Stirring, she moaned but didn’t wake. He should have a helicopter pick her up, take her to hospital but he knew as sure as he knew the sun would rise, this woman would not want to be taken to a hospital or have the authorities involved in any way. Blasted injury was still bleeding, he’d have to cauterize it. Thank the gods she was unconscious. The toughest men usually screamed like babes when hot steel was applied to skin. On the bright side, the stench of burning flesh couldn’t possibly smell worse than the foulness currently assaulting his nostrils.
    Pulling a dagger out of his boot, he poured whisky over it and placed it in the fire that was already burning to provide the cabin with warmth. Taking a large swig of whisky, he studied her face, remembering the look of shock when she saw him.
    A warrior, no, a Celtic goddess, that’s what she looked like with her long fiery curly hair and those emerald eyes of hers—sad, yet wise beyond her years. The lines on her face attested to a hard life. Wrinkles around her eyes and mouth added to her strong, fierce beauty. Those same creases would vanish, filling with happiness when he plundered her body, made her scream her release. Mentally scolding