Read Online No Price Too High by Jo Ann Ferguson - Free Book Online Page A

pillion.”
    â€œWhat would keep you from sliding off the back of the horse and scurrying away?” He laughed as he forced her back against him until she had to crane her neck to an awkward angle to see his smile. “And think how much more pleasant it is to ride like this.”
    â€œI don’t find this pleasant.”
    â€œOdd.” He added nothing else to her as he called out to his men.
    The horse beneath them leaped forward at his command, and he pulled the cloth across his face to protect himself from the dust.
    She looked away. He was holding her so intimately to show her, yet again, how easily he could control her. He did not have to show her. She knew. Through the night, her dreams had been haunted with terror of what might happen now. She had been too desperate to repay Abd al Qadir, and Gabriel had taken advantage of that. Now … she could not guess what might happen, because she had no idea who or what this man truly was.
    The wind blew into her face as they traveled toward the rising sun. Her heart lurched. They rode farther from the lands held by the Crusaders. Every mile they traveled made it more impossible for her to return to Tyre on foot.
    Dust burned in her eyes. The hot breath of the wind scored her face with dirt. She drew up the black wool and realized Gabriel had done her a favor by insisting she wear this accursed tcharchaf . She could breathe without tasting grit.
    She choked back her gasp when Gabriel released her. She grasped the front of his robes before she could be bounced off his legs.
    â€œHere,” he said, amusement in his voice.
    Melisande’s fingers quivered as she reached for the leather bladder Gabriel held out to her. She lifted it beneath the flap of the tcharchaf and drank. The water washed away the dust irritating her throat. Although she was tempted to take another drink, she was not sure how long it would be before they could find more water in these wastes.
    Capping the battered bladder, she whispered, “Thank you.”
    â€œYou will become accustomed to the heat.”
    â€œI doubt that. I shan’t remain here long enough to become inured to the heat.”
    â€œMayhap you are right.”
    Startled by his abrupt agreement, she looked up at him. Once again, he released her. As the horse shifted, she clutched onto his robes. His heart did not beat as furiously as hers as he wrapped his cloak around her.
    He bent so his face brushed the side of hers when he whispered, “I doubt anyone would want to become accustomed to this sweet fire that burns between us, milady.”
    â€œThere is nothing between us.”
    â€œI would that that were so, especially when I look into your eyes that are the color of allazaward , which is the shade of the midmorning sky.” His fingertip outlined the fullness of her lower lip as tenderly as a spring zephyr.
    A silent shriek of warning rang through her head, telling her to turn her face aside from this man who deserved the name Shetan more than his horse did, but she slipped her arms beneath his cloak and over his firm shoulders. At her touch, he pressed her even closer to him. He whispered her name as his mouth lowered toward hers.
    With what might have been a curse or an insult tossed at her, he drew back. His shoulders became rigid, and she pulled her arms away. Again he wore no more expression than the rocks around them.
    She opened her mouth to ask a question, then closed it. Did she really want to know the truth? If he had meant only to humiliate her by forcing her to see her longing for his kisses, he had succeeded. But, if he had been as beguiled as she by the desire that should not exist between them, then being the captive of Renard du Vent offered more dangers than she had dared to consider.
    Gabriel rubbed his shoulder as he entered the tent that had been raised as soon as he called an end to the day’s travel. He had not dared to ease his guard on Melisande for a moment. Even