Read Online Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart Of The Warrior by Lindsay McKenna - Free Book Online Page B

she’d seen too much of it in South America, and it angered her to her soul. No one had the right to hurt someone frailer or weaker.
    “Here,” Roan said, digging out a foil-wrapped gift tied with red ribbon. “Mike said this was special for you.” And he grinned.
    Inca scowled as she took the gift. She made sure their fingers did not touch this time. Oh, she wanted to touch Roan again, but a large part of her was afraid of it, afraid of what other wild, unbidden reactions would be released in her body because of it.
    “Thank you.”
    Well, at least Inca could be civil when she wanted to be, Roan thought, laughing to himself. He was discovering it was all about respecting boundaries with her. He watched covertly, pretending to search for the map, as she tore enthusiastically into the foil wrapping. She was like a child, her face alight with eagerness, her eyes wide with expectation. The wrapping and ribbon fluttered around her.
    “Oh!”
    Roan grinned as she held up smoked salmon encased in protective foil. “Mike said you had a love of salmon.”
    For the first time, Inca smiled. She held up the precious gift and studied it intently. “My blood brother knows my weaknesses.”
    “I doubt you have many,” Roan said dryly, and caught her surprised look. Just as quickly, she jerked her gaze away from him.
    “Do not be blinded by the legend that follows me. I have many weaknesses,” she corrected him throatily. Laying the package in her lap, she took out her knife and quickly slit it open. The orange smoked fish lay before her like a feast. Her fingers hovered over it. She glanced at him. “Do you want some?”
    “No, thank you. You go ahead, though, and enjoy it.” Roan was pleased with her willingness to share. Among his people, it was always protocol to offer food first to those around you, and lastly, help yourself.
    She stared at him through hooded eyes. “Are you sure?” How could he resist smoked salmon?
    She was reading his mind. He could feel her there in his head, like a gentle wind on a summer day. For whatever reason, Roan felt no sense of intrusion, no need to protect his thoughts from her. He grinned belatedly as he pulled the map from the plastic case. “I’m sure. The salmon is your gift. Mike and Ann said you love it. I don’t want to take a single bite of it away from you. Salmon’s a little tough to come by down here,” he joked, “and where I come from, there’s plenty of it. So, no, you go ahead and enjoy.”
    Inca studied him. He was a generous and unselfish person. Not only that, he was sensitive and thoughtful toothers’ needs. Her heart warmed to him strongly. Few men had such honorable traits. “Very well.” She got to her feet and went over to the tug captain. Roan watched with interest. Ernesto, his chest sunken, his flesh burned almost tobacco brown by the equatorial sun, reached eagerly for part of the salmon. He took only a little, and thanked Inca profusely for her generosity. She nodded, smiled, and then came and sat back down. Lifting a flake of the meat to her lips, she closed her eyes, rested her head against the cockpit wall and slid it into her mouth.
    Roan felt Inca’s undiluted pleasure over each morsel of the salmon. In no time, the fish was gone and only the foil package remained on her lap. There was a satiated look in her eyes as she stuck each of her fingers in her mouth to savor the taste of salmon there.
    Sighing, Inca lifted her head and looked directly at him. “Your name. It has meaning, yes?”
    Shocked at her friendly tone, Roan was taken aback. Maybe his manners had earned him further access to her. He hoped so. Clearing his throat, he said, “Yes, it does.”
    “Among our people, names carry energy and skills.” Inca lifted her hand. “I was named Inca by a jaguar priestess who found me when I was one year old and living with a mother jaguar and her two cubs. She had been given a dream the night before as to where to find me. She kept me for