Dangerous Talents Read Online Free PDF

rape me.”
    Dahleven gaped. How could she think such a thing? He’d offered no insult.
    “Rape! My lady, no!” Sorn burst out. Lady Celia turned to him with a quickness born of fury, making Dahleven glad she was unarmed. Sorn rushed on before she could speak. “The night is cold, and we travel lightly. We all share our blankets to keep warm, and we have none to spare for you to use alone.”
    Lady Celia searched Sorn’s face. Her expression slowly softened as the truth of his words penetrated. How did Sorn inspire such trust in women? It was almost as if he had a second Talent. Dahleven watched the anger run out of her like water from a broken jar, leaving her soft and small and vulnerable. His men relaxed as the tension dissipated.
    Lady Celia dropped her gaze and ran a hand through her hair. Then she brought her gaze back up to his and straightened her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”
    Dahleven acknowledged the apology with a nod and kicked himself for being a fool. The woman had endured two days alone in the desert and a rough rescue by a troop of strange men. He shouldn’t be surprised by the conclusion she’d jumped to. A woman with any breeding and modesty at all would balk at sleeping between two dirt-encrusted men. He made a second mental correction. Had he thought her soft and vulnerable? The woman had the pride and honor of a Jarl, apologizing directly, without excuse. Her character was as worthy of admiration as her fine body.
    At the thought of her body, Dahleven’s gaze traveled down her exposed legs, and up past shapely hips to her breasts. They would fill a man’s hand perfectly, with a bit left over for kissing.
    Dahleven cleared his throat and looked away, embarrassed to find his thoughts running uncomfortably close to Lady Celia’s fears. Then he looked back at her scratched and bruised legs. They needed attention. A Healer’s attention. “Ghav! Come attend to the lady’s injuries.”
    “I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
    Is the woman always contrary ? “I’m sure you are, but I’d like our Healer to attend you, as you’re my responsibility, now.”
    Her brows rose, sparks flashing in her eyes again. Now what ?
    “ Your responsibility?”
    Her mouth opened to continue, but Sorn put his hand lightly on her arm. “Ghav is a skilled Healer, and he can take the ache and sting from your bruises. You’ll feel better for letting him tend to you.”
    Lady Celia looked at Sorn. She pressed her lips tightly shut, glared briefly at Dahleven, then nodded to Sorn. “All right.”
    Ghav had come up quietly during the last skirmish. He gestured with a small flourish at the rock Lady Celia had just been sitting on. “My lady?”
    Dahleven watched as Lady Celia seated herself. A strange combination of expressions flashed across her face in response to Ghav’s gesture. Suspicion, and…surprise? Unease? Was she not accustomed to courtesy? Perhaps he should revise his opinion of her social standing. Yet her bearing declared her to be at least a high-standing freeman, and perhaps the daughter of a lord. The woman was a puzzle, and one he’d have to solve. Such puzzles could be dangerous.
    Dahleven shook his head, then pulled Sorn aside so they could talk privately. Sorn’s eyes always saw clearly, especially where women were involved. “What is your estimate of her? Is she what she claims to be?”
    Sorn rubbed his bearded chin between thumb and forefinger before he spoke. “She feels fair to me.”
    If it had been anyone but Sorn, Dahleven might have questioned whether the lady’s looks had turned his head, but his friend saw deeper than that. His intuition read women almost as well as Ragni’s Talent of Empathy.
    “Granted, she’s no Tewa, but we saw Outcast Nuvinlanders mingling with the Renegade Tewakwe in that camp two days ago. She could be one of them, play-acting to save her skin.”
    Sorn snorted. “You don’t believe that any more than I do. No Nuvinland woman, Outcast or