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.‘‘Have the profits dropped?’’‘‘No.’’‘‘Have the trades been untended?’’‘‘No.’’‘‘Then what’s your complaint?’’‘‘Ye’re still a wee bit distracted, and in our business that’s asking for trouble.’’ Magnus knew that with one swipe of a claw Warlord could cut out his heart.But he had a duty to the men, and to Warlord himself, and the words needed to be spoken.‘‘Now that ye know she’s safe, ye can put yer heart where it belongs—in the making of the money.’’‘‘Your savings are safe in Switzerland.And don’t worry—my heart is just where it always was, cooking in hell.’’ Warlord drew another breath deep into his lungs.His head snapped up.Without any care at all he stood.‘‘Follow the plan.Lead the men.I’ve got to go.’’‘‘But.you.we.’’ Magnus could barely stammer his dismay.Warlord leaned over, grabbed the front of Magnus’s shirt, and lifted him to eye level.‘‘Don’t fail me.’’In a single bound Warlord slid from man to panther.Chapter TenHurry.Hurry.He would know.He would find her.Hurry.What was that?Karen skidded to a halt.She turned.The path stretched behind her, empty, rocky.She looked around, yet saw nothing but the line of the Himalayas etched against the sky, jagged, pristine, indifferent.She listened, yet heard nothing but the ever-present wind, the thunder of a distant waterfall, the brief scream of a hawk overhead.She’d been walking for a half hour, and she’d been nervous every minute.But she was being ridiculous, granting Warlord powers no mere man could possess.He was gone from the camp.Unless he’d arrived back the very minute Karen left, she had a good chance of escaping.She might not like the mountains, but she knew how to run, and she knew how to hide.So she needed to hurry.The path was no more than a slice of soft stone among the granite, but as long as it took her in the opposite direction from the warlord’s camp, she would follow.She turned back with renewed intent, walking briskly between giant stones and through a high mountain meadow.The path dipped.she heard the soft sound of a footfall.she swung around again.Nothing was there.She scanned the meadow.Nothing.A movement caught her eye.But when she looked at the place she saw only the shadow of a high and distant cloud.Nevertheless.she would have sworn that some thing moved through the grass after her.Impossible.It must be the wind that rippled through the flowers.Yet the hair stood up on the back of her neck.She would have sworn someone—or something—was watching her.She turned back to her journey, walked around a corner, and skidded to a stop.‘‘Oh, help,’’ she whispered.The path skittered along a cliff above and a two-hundred-foot chasm below, and narrowed to only six inches of crumbling rock.Below, the raging river chewed at the stones, licking away at the support, and this crossing made the terrifying jump from the warlord’s tent look simple.When it came to heights, she was a coward.She knew it.Her father had taunted her often enough.And usually she handled her fear.but not today.Not when she was escaping a madman’s clutches.Not when she was imagining a pursuit that wasn’t there.Taking a deep breath, she put her back against the cliff and inched forward, one foot after the other, eyes determinedly forward and staring across the chasm to the opposite cliff.She took deep, slow breaths, warding off hyperventilation.The cool breeze chilled the sheen of sweat on her face.She didn’t want to faint.No, God, please, don’t faint, because there was always a chance she’d live through the fall and suffer for days and nights of never-ending agony.like her mother.Worse, fear made her hallucinate.She thought someone stood in front of her on the path.Someone who breathed hot breath on her neck.With infinite care she turned her head to the side.Warlord stood there, fierce and furious, staring into her eyes.No.Oh, no.It wasn’t possible.How did he find her so quickly?‘‘You would face this.rather than me?’’ he asked.‘‘What do you think?’’ Her insolence was instinctive—and misplaced.For deep in his eyes that red flared, and he said, ‘‘I think you’ve made a terrible mistake.’’ He grabbed her.For a long, bitter moment she thought he was going to throw her into thin air, and she was going to die.Die as she had died every night in her nightmares.Instead he twirled her around, shoved her back to the meadow, and manhandled her to the ground, face-first.Her cheek crushed the green grass, and her eyes filled with disappointed tears.But not for long.She breathed deeply, got control.Karen Sonnet did not cry.She did not complain.She did not whine.She had failed to escape.She would take whatever punishment he handed out—and when she got the chance, she would run again.He picked her up and moved her around as if she weighed nothing, pulling her arms behind her and snapping cold metal around her wrists.Handcuffs.Setting her on her feet, he shoved her up the path she’d so recently descended.Karen knew rebellion, fear.and a mortifying relief that she didn’t have to continue down that narrow, dangerous, fracturing track.What did that say about her? She would rather not know.‘‘Listen,’’ she said.‘‘When we get back.’’ Warlord walked so closely behind her his heat and rage seared her skin.He held her arms, controlling her firmly.‘‘I don’t want to get back.’’‘‘Too damned bad.’’ He walked a little too quickly for her, bumping the backs of her legs with his, making her stumble.‘‘It’s ridiculous to think you want me enough to commit a crime.’’‘‘I would never have thought you were a stupid woman.’’She flung herself off the edge of the path and around to face him.‘‘I am not stupid.’’He spanned her waist with his hands, lifted her, and brought her close enough for their faces to touch.‘‘What do you call a woman who doesn’t recognize a man in rut when she sees him?’’She took a long, terrified breath as she fell into the flames in his dark eyes.‘‘Men may be animals, but they do not rut.’’‘‘How many men have you slept with? One? Did you pick out the most anemic dweeb in your high school to perform the deed?’’‘‘College!’’ she gasped, because she thought the dweeb was less dweeby if he was older.Then Warlord laughed, a husky purr of lethal amusement, and she knew she’d made a mistake.‘‘Of course,’’ he said.‘‘No glorious rush of adolescent hormones for you.You waited the proper amount of time, picked your man, and fucked him without an ounce of passion.’’‘‘That’s not true!’’He wrapped one arm around her waist, brought her close against his chest, and slowly but surely let her slide down his body.‘‘It’s not true now.is it, Karen?’’Her mouth went dry with fear.and desire.Damn him.She had told herself so many times that the soft emotions and strong passions no longer survived within her soul, and he made her feel them all.He held her long enough for her to feel the heat of his erection.Then he turned her by the shoulders and marched her ahead of him again.The walk back seemed to go too quickly, and each moment her tension increased.Was he going to hurt her? Beat her? Kill her?They reached his tent, and the narrow wooden bridge she’d searched for was now in place from the path to the tent.He shoved her across without a single care for her fear and hesitation, through the slit in the tent, and rolled her under the tapestry.She heard Mingma’s glad cry of, ‘‘Oh, miss!’’ as she hurried toward her.Warlord held out his hand in a stop gesture.Mingma skidded to a halt.‘‘Tomorrow, make sure you fix this seam in the tent
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