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

handrail, anything to give the illusion of protection from a hard fall.
    He laughed, a low sound of amusement that licked along her spine. ‘‘If your father is truly indifferent to you, that’s good to know. I won’t have to worry about him sending help.’’
    ‘‘No,’’ she said bitterly. ‘‘You don’t have to worry about that.’’
    ‘‘Don’t step on the fourth from the top.’’
    She wavered, counting, then took a long step up. ‘‘If you’ll get me a hammer and some nails, I’ll fix that for you,’’ she said sarcastically.
    ‘‘In case of attack from a mercenary group with aspirations to my valley and my territory, those steps will give me the extra seconds I need to slaughter a few more of them.’’
    ‘‘Oh.’’ She used her elbows to inch her way up on the platform. The two-by-eight boards were springy, the nail heads were rusty, and when she looked down she could see the ground through the gaps in the boards.
    He grinned as he watched her get as close as possible to the tent and stand, half stooped over, ready to drop in case the platform—or the world— tried to send her tumbling over the edge.
    She looked out. ‘‘Is that likely? An attack? And slaughter?’’
    ‘‘Slaughter is a time-honored tradition on the border.’’ Lightly he sprang up to stand beside her, observing every minuscule movement down in the valley and up in the mountains. ‘‘But don’t worry. The valley is almost impenetrable. Attackers have to climb the mountain that surrounds it before they can rappel down the cliffs, and while they do, we’ll pick them off like ducks in a shooting gallery.’’
    ‘‘What if they use helicopters?’’
    ‘‘No mercenaries here are so well funded.’’ Catching her wrist, he pulled her along the narrow ledge toward the entrance.
    For one alarming moment she looked over the edge and all the way down. Just as in her nightmares, the ground rushed up to meet her. She took an unwary step back, stumbled on a tent peg, and almost went over onto her rear. As her arms windmilled, she swallowed a scream.
    Warlord dragged her forward, into his arms, and steadied her. ‘‘You’re afraid of heights.’’
    ‘‘No, I’m not.’’ At least, she shouldn’t be. Not when there was so much more immediate to be afraid of.
    ‘‘That’s the nightmare that wakes you from sleep.’’
    She denied it automatically. ‘‘No, it’s not.’’
    ‘‘These are the highest mountains in the world. The most dangerous. If you’re afraid, why did you take this job?’’
    ‘‘I’m not afraid,’’ she said, her teeth gritted.
    The sun was gone. The stars’ light barely glistened. The campfires flickered far below, and she couldn’t really see his face. But by the tilt of his head she knew he studied her, and just as it had been on those nights when he visited her tent, she thought he saw clearly in the dark.
    She didn’t want him to see her afraid. Fear always unleashed that awful mockery, so she tilted her chin up and smiled tightly. ‘‘I have a question. Will you share me with your men?’’ She shouldn’t have suggested it, but she had to know.
    There were too many men out there, and she’d take that nosedive off the mountain if it came to a choice between that and them.
    Catching the front of her shirt in his fist, he leaned close to her face, and when he spoke, his breath caressed her face. ‘‘I do not share what is mine. And you are mine; make no mistake about that. Mine forever.’’
    ‘‘Forever is a very, very long time.’’
    ‘‘An eternity.’’ Unseen and unanticipated, he swept her into his arms, and in a symbolism that wasn’t lost on Karen, he strode to and through the opening in the tent.

Chapter Eight
    W arlord’s arms tightened around Karen.
    Welcome home, my bride."
    Yes. He’d laid his claim to her, and treated her like a bride, but a bride from the days when men captured their women and held them by force until they trained them