Bride By Mistake Read Online Free PDF Page A

afraid,” Luke said in Spanish. “No one will hurt you now,
señorita
.”
    She glanced at him over her shoulder, turning furious, terrified eyes on him, tearing at her bindings, even though they must be cutting into her flesh. Luke’s heart twisted in his chest. She was barely out of childhood.
    “Stop it, little one. You’re only hurting yourself more.” Luke pulled off his coat and dropped it over her nakedness. She hesitated, her golden eyes defiant and wary.
    “That’s right,” Luke said gently. “I won’t hurt you.” He squatted down, pulled out his knife, and reached for her feet. Instantly her bound hands rose in desperate, defensive claws, their nails broken and bloody.
    “Hush,
niña
. Don’t be frightened,” Luke said in the kind of voice he used on a skittish horse. “I’m just going to cut you free.”
    Her eyes flickered sideways, and he saw a bloodied rock lying beside her. He smiled. “So that’s how you smashed that brute’s nose. Clever girl. Now let’s get you free.” With calm, deliberate movements he cut the rags that tied her feet.
    “Now, for your hands.” Hesitantly she held them out to him, and he cut through the strip of cloth that bound her.
    She wriggled into his coat, pulling it over her nakedness.
    Her body was thin, unformed, and childish. Beneath the dust her skin was marred with darkening bruises, scrapes, cuts, and smears of bright, fresh blood. Her barely there breasts, her belly, and her thighs were scraped and smeared with blood.
    Luke’s heart clenched. Had he arrived too late?
    She scrambled to her feet. Gripping the bloodied rock in a grubby fist, she buttoned his coat one-handed, her gaze darting between the still figure of her erstwhile attacker and Luke.
    “He’s dead,” Luke said quietly. “I killed him. You are safe now,
niña
. It’s all over.”
    Her eyes were huge and golden, like a fierce little hawk;one side of her face was badly bruised and starting to swell. Her lips were split and still welling with slow blood.
    She was heartbreakingly young, perhaps twelve or thirteen years old. The same age as his youngest sister, Molly. But there was a world of difference between his happy, sheltered little sister and this fierce, battered scrap.
    Luke’s throat burned. War was no place for little girls.
    “You’re safe now,” he repeated, not knowing what else to say. He had no idea if she even understood him. She looked Spanish, but she might be Basque. Or even French, he supposed. She hadn’t said a word so far.
    In French he repeated that she was safe, and that he would not harm her. Her eyes flashed hatred at the sound of his French—she was Spanish, then—so he said, “I am English. I will not harm you.” He knew no Basque, so he stuck to Spanish.
    There was a long pause, then a violent shudder passed through her and she started to shiver.
    Instinctively he reached out to hug her, but she flinched away, the rock raised and ready to strike.
    He stepped back, holding his palms up. “Sorry. I simply meant to comfort you.”
    The golden eyes burned with doubt.
    “You’re the same age as my little sister,” Luke said helplessly. He stared for a moment, silently cursing himself. Stupid thing to say. What would she care of his sister?
    He was almost twenty years old, a man—an officer—and yet, for the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do.
    He was no stranger to women, and having grown up with three sisters, he’d imagined he understood the female sex pretty well. But he’d never faced anything like this before.
    He wished his mother was here. She’d know what to do with this girl, how to reassure her. He’d even welcome his bossy older sisters, Susan and Meg. They were both married, but not Molly. Not his baby sister, turning thirteen next month.
    Please God Molly would never have to know such evil existed.
    The young girl’s legs were long and skinny and shockingly naked under his coat. With one hand, she tugged down the