Read Online Into the Shadow by Christina Dodd - Free Book Online Page A

the handlebars, caught her hands, and jerked her forward until she rested against his back, cheek to groin. ‘‘Then I’ll catch you—and I promise you won’t like that.’’
    ‘‘Are you under the quaint impression that I’m having a good time right now?’’ she snapped. ‘‘Put your hands on the bars, you fool.’’
    He laughed, a rumble deep in his body, and took control of the motorcycle again.
    She squinted through the deepening dusk, trying to guess which tent would be hers. Hers . . . and Warlord’s. Until she could escape.
    Because no matter what he said, what threat he made, she would escape. She was smart, in good health. The winter she was sixteen her father had sent her out into the Montana mountain wilderness with only minimum gear, and she had survived a brutal week alone. And Warlord couldn’t watch her every minute of the day.
    Yet the farther they went into camp, the more her hopes sank.
    Perhaps Warlord couldn’t watch her, but unless the camp emptied when the troop went on raids, she would be watched.
    As they approached the end of the valley, he stopped the bike and pointed. ‘‘That’s where I live.’’
    Her gaze traveled up and up.
    A wooden platform was built twenty feet above the valley floor, and into the cliff. Atop the platform was a tent larger than any she had ever seen, and she’d seen plenty.
    ‘‘It’s custom-made, warm in the winter, cool in the summer. I live there—and now you do, too,’’ he said. ‘‘You’ll be comfortable.’’
    ‘‘No, I won’t.’’
    ‘‘Then you’ll be uncomfortable. Your choice.’’ He drove the motorcycle into a cleft in the rock and got off, then steadied her as she stood.
    Her legs were shaky—from hunger, from fear, from the long trip to this place. Leaning against the stone, she realized how truly trapped she was. While they rode she should have twisted off his ears or gouged his eyes. Yes, they would have wrecked, but she would have had a chance of leaping free. . . .
    ‘‘Come on.’’ He took her hand and tugged her after him.
    She dug in her heels.
    Without looking back he said, ‘‘Do you want me to carry you? That would provide the men with entertainment.’’ With his free hand he gestured up the rickety stairway that led to the tent. ‘‘And if we fall, it’s a long way to the ground.’’
    She stumbled forward under the pressure of his grip.
    He pushed her the first few steps up the stairway.
    It was steep, almost a ladder, and to steady herself she bent to clutch the wooden treads above her.
    ‘‘Don’t step on the third step. It will break under your weight.’’ When she hesitated, he pushed her again. ‘‘Go on. I’m not interested in you now. Exhausted women have no life in them. I’ll wait until tomorrow, when you’ve eaten and slept and you’re able to fight.’’
    He was such a bastard. Such a completely right bastard.
    She was hungry, thirsty, and tired. The pants he’d given her were drooping, the cuffs she’d made unfolding. She used one hand to keep the waistband up, and kept the other on the ladder, and her eyes resolutely lifted to the platform and the tent.
    If he did as he promised and left her alone tonight, tomorrow she would have the energy and intelligence to find a way out of this.
    It would probably include a ransom.
    Eerily, he echoed her thoughts. ‘‘I imagine your father would pay well to get you back.’’
    ‘‘What do you know about my father?’’ she lashed.
    ‘‘I know he owns the company you work for.’’
    At last she understood his motivation for taking her.
    Ransom. Of course.
    Nothing else made sense.
    ‘‘You ought to do a little more research on your intended victims, because my father wouldn’t pay a dime to get me back.’’ There. She’d given him the unvarnished truth.
    ‘‘Are you asking me to believe he doesn’t care about his only child?’’
    ‘‘I don’t give a damn what you believe.’’ She wished the steps had a