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alive, of them both being alive. Of finally being free of Henry. She stared at the bright sweep of headlights picking out the winding road, the fence posts. She was free. She didn't have to run anymore. Henry and Seber would be in custody by now. It was hard to take in, especially when she considered that if Blade hadn't found her in Ambrose Park and chosen to involve himself in all this, she would be dead. "How many times have you saved my life?" she rasped. "I haven't been counting." Blade flashed her a slow grin, caught her fingers and drew them to his mouth. Oh, yes, he was arrogant and magnificent, and too damn cocky for his own good, and she knew she was going to have a hard job resisting him, if she could resist him at all. Her instincts as a child had been accurate. Blade was a knight her knight. She just hadn't realised he was also a ruthless conqueror. * She must have slept. When she awoke, they were bumping along a rutted road, and as they came around a bend, she saw a house that looked like a castle keep, stone-walled and stark against a moonlit expanse of ocean. Mist rose off the surface of the water, long tendrils flowing on the night air, sinking into dips and hollows, condensing on the massive walls so that they gleamed like wet mail in the moonlight. There was an enormous sweep of barren ground surrounding the building, which she realised wasn't old at all, but starkly modern. The bare dirt would one day be an emerald sweep of lawn. She could almost see the graceful trees and shrubs, the riotous beds of flowers, which would complement the lawn and soften the solid, uncompromising lines of the stonework. The house stood alone and lonely, incomplete, yet compelling, a thing of fairy tales and myths, as isolated in this quiet valley as a fierce eagle in its eyrie. Blade pulled to a stop in front of a massive door that looked like it had been constructed to withstand a siege. He opened the Jeep's glove-box and grabbed a flashlight and a set of keys. Anna unclipped her seat belt. "Where are we?" The question seemed mundane. She felt she should have been asking, "Whenare we?" "My house." It figured, she thought, as she pushed her door open and climbed down to the gravelled drive, still Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html holding the blanket around her shoulders. Blood will out. Blade Lombard was a reaver from way back, with a reaver's instincts. The house shouted out who and what he was loud and clear. He would take, and he would hold. He unlocked the huge double doors, which swung inward on well-oiled hinges. Then he strode back to the Jeep, extracted his pack from the rear, locked the vehicle, then came around to take her arm. Anna didn't protest, soaking up even this small touch with a hungry delight. She felt strangely light-headed, filled with a nervous energy. And scared.His house . Already she could feel the pull of it somewhere deep inside her. This keep of a house was so achingly like Blade, an extension of his personality. She didn't care what it was like inside; she loved it already. Oh, yeah, she was scared. She didn't want to find more things about him to love, to weave him any deeper into the very fabric of her being, because she couldn't afford to trust in the fairy tale. She had spent a lifetime dreaming, fantasizing had even chosen to spend her leisure time creating fantasies on a page but reality for her had always been gritty, almost too real. Only with Blade had the fantasy and reality become inextricably entwined. The hall was massive and high ceilinged, the floor paved with what looked like flagstones and probably were. He led her into a huge, bare room, the lounge. There was a fireplace big enough to walk into, an easel in one corner and the smell of linseed oil in the air, and a mattress on the floor piled with pillows and a sleeping bag. He showed her where the nearest bathroom was, leaving her with the torch. When she walked back into the lounge, he had a fire blazing, and candlelight flickered from several heavy candelabra. He rose to his feet, pulling off his T-shirt in one fluid movement, letting it drop to the floor. "It'll be a little primitive until the power's hooked up. The electricians are still working on the wiring." He took the torch from her, switched it off and put it beside the makeshift bed she knew they were going to share for tonight, anyway. Anna eyed him uncertainly. His declaration that they were going to get married still hung between them, impossible and unresolved. He checked out the fading bruise on her forehead, the scratch on her arm, undoing the grubby bandage and tossing it in the fire. He was quiet, restrained, and that set Anna even more on edge. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |