Cates, Kimberly Read Online Free PDF Page B

white, that gaze, so disturbing.
    What was it Papa had always told her? There were some deeds so dark that no salvation could touch the sinner; a shadow of the past would always cling to his eyes. To such men, death was a gift.
    Rhiannon had wanted so badly to believe that no one was ever beyond hope, beyond help. But as she stared into the chiseled features of the English officer, she wondered if those ice-blue eyes that had pierced her to her soul were the very kind Papa had warned of so long ago.

    Redmayne struggled within the red mist, sinking and falling, drifting and sailing, lost in a place woven of shadows. Shadows he dreaded, fought a lifetime to forget. Dangerous. So dangerous to let them in, haunting, crippling, weakening him like a subtle poison. But he was tired, too tired to escape them this time, to lock them back into the darkest reaches of that exquisite hell called memory.
    The chamber waited for him—huge and cold and glittering red. Rippling bed-curtains the color of fire materialized out of the mist, unfurling like the wings of some hungry dragon around the vast, heavily carved bed, swallowing its prey whole. The boy huddled within the belly of the beast, drawing himself into a ball, his white-gold hair tousled, his small hands clutching his knees against his chest to hold the sobs inside. Couldn't let them out. Couldn't...
    Desperate, he folded himself up inside, ever so tightly again and again and again, every fear and grief, every bit of pain or joy. Make it smaller and smaller until every fragment of himself disappeared where the man could never find it.
    Fire bloomed in Redmayne's shoulder as he stirred, restless, trying to shift away so he wouldn't have to see the boy, the glittering chamber, feel the crushing sense of helplessness.
    But he couldn't escape, trapped as surely as the child was within that hazy world. The gilt door creaked open, light from it slashing across the mist-shrouded bed. He could feel the boy's heart thundering, the fear, the despair clawing in his throat. Footsteps, so soft for such a big man, drummed in Redmayne's ears.
    Eyes like pale stones peered down through the swirling haze, probing like fingers, as if they could peel back the top of the boy's head and see inside. Sweat beaded Redmayne's brow, trickled down his throat. No! He didn't want anyone to see.
    "Papa," the boy cried out. "Papa!"
    "Your papa isn't here," a dragon-voice murmured, so quiet, so cold. "You belong to me now."
    Redmayne woke with a start, fighting to shove himself upright. Pain exploded in his shoulder, his arm collapsing beneath him, hurling him back against the mound of damp pillows. Knife blades seemed to screw themselves into his shoulder, but even that breath-stealing pain couldn't fully banish the icy shadows of the dragon bed or kill the taste of the little boy's cry on his lips.
    Something butterfly-soft brushed his brow. "Captain Redmayne?"
    The sweet feminine voice stunned him. He clung to it, trying to wrench himself away from the child and the chamber and the echoes that haunted him there. Sweeping the last webs of unconsciousness from his brain, Redmayne forced his eyes open, staring into a face oddly familiar. Spice-colored hair, freckles, huge worried eyes. He'd thought her an angel. But no self-respecting angel would let her charge stumble into hell.
    "Captain Redmayne," she urged gently. "You called for your father just now."
    Redmayne stiffened, appalled. Had he called the name aloud? It was contemptible enough to do so in one's dreams, but to voice the name where someone else could hear was unthinkable.
    "I'll get word to your father that you've been hurt," the woman said. "Just tell me where I can reach him."
    "Six feet under." Redmayne forced his voice into some semblance of his accustomed chill drawl.
    The woman looked as horrified as if she'd kicked him in his wound. "I—I'm sorry."
    "Don't exert yourself into paroxysms of regret, madam. It happened too long ago to be of any