Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets) (12 page)

What on earth?

A red faced man took half a step toward him. “Forgive us, sir. We had no idea it was you.”

“Of course you didn’t. What message do you bring?” Colton ran his hand down Brutus’s face.

The soldier’s already perfectly straight posture straightened even more. “Your father wishes to know if you have found the girl.”

My heartbeat paused. Me. I was the girl. Any second now, I would be handed over to these strange men.

“As you can see, I have not.” He gestured at the surrounding area.

“There have been reports you were traveling with her as recently as yesterday.” From the tightness of the soldier’s face, I knew he was extremely uncomfortable contradicting Colton.

From the slight lift of his eyebrow, I knew this information was news to Colton. “Would these same reports say anything about Summerlynn?”

“No, sir. There is no word on him.”

“Keep looking. You may inform my father I will continue the search for the girl and return once I have her.” He checked the slant of the sun in the sky. “Now, if there is nothing else, I must be off.”

“We know you have the girl. Bring her to us when you‘re through.” The other soldiers approached, forming a half circle around Brutus and Colton. “She’ll enjoy herself.” The men guffawed, as if what they suggested was funny.

I felt my own nerves still. I knew what the soldier was suggesting. I would not be sick. Not here, not now. Colton was the only thing standing between me and certain rape and I prayed he would not relinquish me.

“I do not have her.” His voice was slow, unhurried but I saw the way the muscles of his shoulders had bunched.

The soldier shrugged. “It does not matter. I am to bring you both in.”

“Then I ask you to remember who I am.” Colton’s voice radiated authority. “Stop me and I cannot help the consequences.”

For a long moment, their gazes locked in an intense stare. Grudgingly, the man fell back, motioning with his chin for his companions to do the same.

“You may tell my father I will bring the girl myself and not to send any others for her.” Colton nodded once and watched all three men as they continued on their way.

He continued tightening Brutus’s girth and checking the stirrups. It was nearly fifteen minutes before he turned his attention to me. Displaying a disconcerting awareness of where I was, our eyes met and he gestured for me to come out from behind the fallen log.

With the taste of fear still metallic on my tongue, I kept my head down as I picked my way to his side. I concentrated on brushing off my clothes. While they were rather more creased and stained than they’d been this morning, they weren’t so bad.

While I’d been dusting my clothes, Colton had crossed the road to my side. “All right?” His hand gently chafed my shoulder, spreading warmth through my chilled body.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I’d been minutes from rape and possibly murder. How did one come to terms with that?

Gently, he drew me into his
arms. Because he was so much taller and bigger, my body was completely enveloped. His arms lightly crossed behind my waist, and my cheek pressed against his chest. The spicy citrus from last night had largely worn off although I detected a trace of something delicious when I inhaled.

I allowed myself to be held, listening to the steady thump of his heart. If he would have attempted to comfort me with words, I would have turned away, but this, this comfort that came only with the press of two bodies, was something I was completely unprepared for.

“Cadrian?” His voice was gentle, a tone I hadn’t heard before.

“Mmm?” I kept my cheek pressed against his chest, not daring to look or be seen quite yet.

“Are you truly all right?”

His concern touched my heart. I sighed. “I have to be.”

Unexpectedly, his hand found mine. The shock of his touch coupled with the heat of his skin felt as though I’d opened my hand over a hot coal. He drew my hand upward, placing a kiss on my fingers.

Something tiny and tenuous unfurled between us. Something I hadn’t thought to ever experience, something I wasn’t sure I even wanted to feel. Definitely not something I want to feel for the man holding me.

Not wanting to think about much of anything, especially things that might make me leave his arms, I burrowed deeper against him. I couldn’t shake the ball of ice in the pit of my stomach. For all my arguments against him, the man was infernally warm.

“I suppose your sole purpose is warmth and not my body?” His chuckle massaged my face.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

After another long moment in his
arms, I stepped back. When I finally looked into his face, his eyes were the blue of rain washed sapphire. I couldn’t read the emotion there, and had the feeling it wouldn’t help if I could.

Colton gestured toward the horse. At my nod, he helped me into the saddle. In a few moments, we were once again on the way to wherever it is he wanted to be.

We fell silent. I was too busy turning over what happened on the road to notice the miles passing by. Colton had been recognized. Apparently his father was a very important man. Who was he?

Maybe I should tackle the subject of his identity again, now that I had more evidence. “Who are you?”

“Pardon?” I knew he heard my question perfectly clear.

“You told those men to remember who you are,” I said so he would understand I was on to him. “Who are you?”

I felt his posture stiffen behind me. I scolded myself for being disappointed. “Who I am is not important.”

“Why didn’t you give me to those soldiers?”

He snorted. “I would not hand over my worst enemy to soldiers seeking entertainment.”

“So we’re enemies?”

“No. More like allies with a shared purpose.” He shifted behind me.

“Which is?”

“Keeping you alive.”

Again, my eye roll was wasted on the horse. “One day that excuse will wear thin.”

“But not today.”

“Will you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then you can easily alter your plans and take me back to Lisbon.”

“No. Stop asking about it.”

“Why? You don’t answer my questions anyway.”

“Because you do not ask the right ones.”

Of course I didn’t ask the right ones! I had no idea what was going on. Another eye roll was wasted on Brutus. I could either continue arguing the point or allow Colton to think whatever it is he was thinking.

So I focused on our surroundings. Nothing had changed. We were still almost fully surrounded by densely packed trees, on the same wagon wheel track as before. The sun was beginning its descent in the sky. Good. That meant it was afternoon now. And I still hadn’t eaten. I didn’t want to further antagonize Colton, but honestly, did the man expect me to fast until we reached some kind of town? Surely the kitchen would have provided him with at least a snack.

Maybe if I waited until we reached that tree before the bend in the road, I wouldn’t be so hungry. I waited until we reached the tree, but my stomach still felt immensely empty. So I picked out another landmark, a bridge this time, and waited until we were nearly there… until Colton abruptly turned Brutus off the road and urged him into the stream.

Does this mean I wouldn’t ever be able to ask Colton if he meant to starve me into submission?

After allowing Brutus a long drink, Colton pulled the horse’s head up and started him walking through the knee-deep water. My pant legs quickly became soaked, as Brutus kicked up water with each step.

Ah. He must be laying a false trail, which means he didn’t entirely trust those Goran soldiers or his father.

Interesting.

“I’m hungry,” I announced.

“And I am to do what about that?”

“Colton.” I invested a wealth of annoyance in his name.

“You can call me Luke, you know.”

“Of course I can’t. You’re Colton.” Calling him by his first name invited a degree of intimacy into our relationship. As long as I could keep him at arm’s length, I had a fighting chance of retaining my heart when this all ended.

He sighed. “Everything with you is a challenge. Why couldn’t your parents have raised a sweet, charming, mild mannered daughter?”

“The food?” I nudged, not wanting him to forget the primary focus here. Besides, that was a stupid question.

“As soon as we’re back on land, we’ll stop and have lunch.”

“It’ll be dinner by then,” I said, not seeing any break in the trees ahead.

To my surprise, he laughed. “I will say this for you, sweetheart, you are certainly determined.”

When the laughter died, the stillness of the forest settled on us. My back became sore from sitting ramrod straight, so I eased myself against his chest. I dropped my gaze to my lap, noticing the contrast between the pale skin of my hands and the rougher, darker tones of Colton’s skin.

He held the reins capably, loosely enough to allow Brutus some freedom of movement but tight enough to keep a connection between the horse’s mouth and his hands. Colton’s nails had once been well cared for, but now had jagged and dirty ends. Then I noticed my own nails had picked up quite a bit of dirt, so I decided not to dwell on that.

Another half hour passed before we saw another bridge. I fancied even Brutus was relieved when Colton turned him up the bank and on to a road. This road was narrower, and seedlings grew between the dirt wheel tracks.

Not ones to waste time, we were seated on the ground, eating bread and cheese within five minutes. The cinch was loosened on Brutus, and he was allowed to graze beside us. It was only after I’d devoured my sandwich that I looked up to notice Colton watching me with an inscrutable expression.

“What?” I brushed the crumbs from my lap.

“I think it’s time you told me everything you know about your father and that letter.”

“Why are you so convinced I know anything?” If he could parry questions with questions, I would as well.

“Your last name, for starters. Then there is that trip you took to a certain address in Lisbon after repeated protestations of complete innocence.”

Well, of course, when he put it like that, it sounded suspicious. “Last names are rarely chosen. As for everything else, when you are honest with me, I will be honest with you.” That should set him back on his heels. And the pendant suddenly lay heavy against my chest.

“I have never kept important information from you.”

“Not telling me who you really are is important!” My voice rose on the last words. “You could be an escaped convict with murderous intent for all I know.”

“Of all the things you imagined about me, the worst you come up with is an escaped convict?”

“Criminals are bad,” I pointed out.

“But not as bad as strangers, apparently.” A smile unfolded across his lips, causing my stomach to tremble.

“This isn’t funny.” I frowned. “I don’t even know what side you’re on!”

“I’m on your side.”

“I don’t have a side!” I rolled my eyes at his obvious attempt to gain my confidence.

“You do now.” Though less pronounced, laughter rolled through his eyes.

Breaking eye contact, I looked at my hands in my lap.
I took a deep breath. “A long time ago, my father mentioned there may come a time when he would send me to Lisbon. When he did, I should ask no questions and do exactly as he said.”

“Which was?”

“That’s just it. He never finished his explanation. We were interrupted by my mother calling us for dinner.” I could feel my cheeks flushing under the heat of his gaze. I was unused to being the sole focus of an attractive man’s attention, and found it quite unnerving.

“How long ago did this occur?”

I looked to the right as I answered. “A year, maybe longer.”

“Did he mention what was in Lisbon?”

“No. And, before you ask,” I pointed a finger at him, “The address was in the purse.”

“Yes, but that still doesn’t explain how you ended up in the back room.”

“I mentioned my father sent me to buy bread from a specific person, only I couldn’t remember the man’s name.” I plucked a piece of grass and began systematically shredding it.

“So you blithely announce your father is Michael Summerlynn?” His voice brimmed with disbelief.

“I didn’t announce it, and how else was I to find the person I needed to speak to?” Unlike Colton, I didn’t understand what was happening.

“You could have told me about your father’s instructions to begin with and I would have gone with you.” He rolled his eyes at me. “But no, you had to prance about telling everyone you met that your father is Michael Summerlynn.”

“I hardly pranced.”

“Sashayed, then.”

I glared. He frowned. Deciding a change of subject was in order, I asked, “May I see the letter?”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve forgotten what it says.” When he made no move to produce it, I narrowed my eyes. “Perhaps seeing it will remind me of anything my father may have said pertaining to Lisbon.”