Dream Shard Read Online Free PDF

couldn’t seem to mind her own good advice. When she looked deeper, his eyes had flecks of amber in them that looked like they were shining. The strangest feeling of intimacy filled her. It was a sense of understanding him on a level that was purely emotional, maybe instinctual. There was honor in him that was so powerful she felt goose bumps rising along her arms.
    She jerked her gaze away, but he reached right over the bar and caught her chin. The contact was jarring. She jumped back, stumbling because she was so rattled, and lost her balance. Her knees were actually weak and it irritated the hell out of her.
    “What are you doing?” she demanded. He didn’t look like the sort of man who needed to resort to rape, but looks could be deceiving. Some men raped for the power thrill.
    His expression tightened, distaste filling his eyes. “It was only your chin, Kalin. You’re the one who got naked with me first, so don’t accuse me of assault.”
    A shiver went down her back. “I didn’t say anything.”
    For a second, he appeared confused. “You jumped back like I’m someone to fear.”
    “You haven’t told me who you are and you have a gun.” She kept her voice low because it felt like something was about to snap between them. The wind touched her neck from the open back door, but she resisted the impulse to panic. There was no way she’d outrun him.
    His attention shifted to the back door. “No, you wouldn’t.”
    She jumped. “What are you?”
    He pushed the bar stool back, the sound grating under the circumstances. Once he’d gained his feet, he adopted a pose that was just too military to be coincidence. His feet were planted shoulder width apart and his arms were crossed over his chest. His hair was only half an inch long too. But he looked confused, and it appeared his lack of understanding was not pleasing him.
    “I don’t remember.”
    The three words sounded like they were ripped from him. He was grinding his teeth before he turned and disappeared into the bedroom. She had to grip the countertop to keep from following him.
    Stockholm syndrome.
    She managed to stand still for a whole three minutes. It just wasn’t in her nature to ignore someone in need. Her rifle was in the broom closet but her belly knotted with nausea at the thought of shooting him.
    Vivid pictures filled her mind of blood and panicking people. She could smell the metallic scent of it and hear the cries of the wounded.
    No, she wasn’t going to shoot him. It didn’t make sense, not a bit, but she was so certain she couldn’t do it that she never even reached for the gun. She could go into the forest. Hope he’d consider it just too much trouble to track her, but the look on his face when he’d admitted he didn’t have a memory pulled her toward the bedroom. Those three words had been an admission. He wasn’t a man that admitted to needing help. No, he was the sort who came to the aid of others. Not knowing who he was was tearing him apart.
    She peeked around the edge of the wall that separated the kitchen from the bedroom. He had every piece of his clothing spread out on the dresser top.
    “You’re some kind of military person.”
    The words were out of her mouth before she thought them out. He looked over at her.
    “How do you figure that?” he looked back down at the clothing. “And why didn’t you run into the forest?”
    She swallowed the lump that tried to choke her as he once again touched on exactly what she’d been thinking. At least this time there was a logical explanation. It didn’t take a genius to conclude she would have been wise to take the opportunity to leave.
    But she stepped into the bedroom instead. “Look at the way you’ve laid everything out.” Each article was placed carefully and neatly.
    “Maybe I’m a neat freak. What do you have to support your opinion?”
    “To begin with, the way you talk.” She stepped up to look at the articles on the dresser top. “Most people would ask me