Captive Bride Read Online Free PDF

this before—not even Philip.
    Philip!
    The thought of her husband-to-be brought her to her senses. She shoved his hand away. “Stop it. Let me go. What the hell am I doing?”
    To her surprise, he released her. She jumped to her feet and ran to the far side of the cave. All the time, she cursed herself. His kiss had sent reason flying away. Philip’s kiss and touch had never affected her that way. She’d always wished his kisses were more exciting. When Davy had touched her breast, she’d almost fainted with want and need.
    She glanced over her shoulder. He’d risen and now hunkered by last night’s fire. He acted as if nothing had happened. Damn him! Her hands curled into fists. Well, she’d show him it had meant nothing to her either.
    Head held high, she marched past him without looking in his direction. She continued out of the cave and around the corner. He made no move to stop her. She found a niche in a jumble of rocks and took care of her personal needs. Afterwards, she climbed atop a boulder. Her first view of the area sent her spirits plummeting. While it was breathtaking scenery, it was completely alien to her.
    Two red rock spires towered above the desert floor, standing like silent sentinels in an empty land. The rugged bluffs caught the sunlight and cast a golden glow over the land. Even though it was early, heat rose in shimmering waves, reminding her of white smoke, the mist that rose from a river in the early morning. She glanced upward. No clouds marred the azure blue sky.
    Escape entered Abby’s mind, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She had no idea where she was. Worse than that, she had no horse, no food, no clothing, not even shoes. A resigned sigh slipped from her lips. She returned to the cave, her spirits flagging. As she joined him by the fire, she expected him to say something, but he remained silent, just handed her a cup of coffee. From beneath lowered eyelashes, she watched him, not knowing what she was looking for. Maybe just an acknowledgment that something had happened between them.
    He picked up a stack of clothes beside him and held them out to her.
    “What’s this?” she asked.
    “Clothes.”
    “Well, I can see that.” She held up the shirt and pants, then scrunched her nose. “Where did you get them? Did you steal them?”
    “Does it matter?” At her shrug, he continued. “But no, I didn’t steal them. They look like they’ll fit you.”
    “I’m not wearing someone else’s clothes. They might be—”
    “They’re clean, I assure you. I know they’re not fancy clothes like you’re used to, but unless you want to wear that blanket for the next three or four days, you’ll put them on.” He stood and stared down at her. “Maybe you want some help getting dressed, Miss O’Sullivan?”
    Abby jumped to her feet and glared at him. “No, thank you. I can do it myself.” With as much dignity as she could muster, she marched to the back of the cave. Once out of sight, she dropped the blanket and donned the clothes. To her surprise, the black pants fit her like they’d been made for her. She shrugged into the white linen shirt, again wondering who the clothes belonged to. His girlfriend? His wife?
    Why did she even care?
    A headache drummed behind her temples, and she massaged the tender spots. Ever since this man had walked into her life, she’d acted like a fool. Well, no more. She scooped up the blanket, walked back to the fire and threw it at him. He brushed it aside and continued frying bacon.
    She sank to her knees. He picked up a pair of beautifully beaded moccasins and placed them in front of her. She scooped them up and stroked the soft leather. “Oh, how beautiful.” When she realized what she’d said, she laid them aside. “They’re nice, but I much prefer boots.”
    His dark eyebrows bunched together. “Maybe you’d prefer to go barefoot?”
    She firmed her lips in a thin line, then picked up the moccasins and slipped her feet into them. The