Come Back to Me (4 page)

HER HEAD HURT. RYCCA WINCED BUT HER instinct was to move, to get up, to get away even if she couldn't quite remember what she was fleeing from. She tried to rise only to be pressed gently back onto the sand.

"Easy, sweetling. You had a bad fall. There are no bones broken but you need to take it slowly."

The voice was a deep rumble, soothing, seductive, and… all too familiar.
Him
. He had done this to her, chased her down, driven her right off the edge of the cliff. He'd damn near killed her and now he thought her helpless, prey no doubt to whatever it was he had in mind.

He had a nasty surprise awaiting him.

But not, unfortunately, until her head stopped spinning. With a frustrated moan, Rycca subsided. Dragon took the sound to mean she was suffering and bent over her in concern.

"Does something hurt besides your head? I checked and you seem to be all right but I could be wrong."

He had checked. What did that mean? She stared directly into his eyes, which looked like ancient gold suddenly revealed to sunlight. Worse, his voice rippled through her, setting off odd little shivers at the same time as it made her feel strangely content.

His hand touched her brow very lightly. She scarcely noticed, so absorbed was she in his look of tender concern. Not that she was fooled by that for a moment. She knew warriors, had lived among them all her life. They were rough, crude men who took what they wanted with no thought but the satisfaction of their own urges. To have fallen from the heady heights of freedom into the very hands of such a man was worse even than falling from the cliff. That, at least, she had survived.

Long experience had taught her the terrible folly of ever showing fear or doubt. Accordingly, she met the warrior's gaze squarely, ignored the strange fluttering of her heart, and snarled, "Get away from me."

Dragon sighed. He didn't blame her in the least for being angry with him; she had every right to feel that way. What he regretted was his inability to do as she wanted. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, "but I cannot. You've been hurt and you need help."

Truth.

No, it couldn't be. Men didn't apologize, at least not to women. Nor did they extend themselves to help someone unless they expected something in return. The candor and compassion she felt in him had to be false. And that prompted a sudden thought: The tumble down the cliff might have done something to her strange, unwanted gift. Perhaps she no longer had any greater ability to tell truth from lie than did any other person. For that, she would fall down a dozen cliffs.

Yet there was still the tantalizing possibility that the warrior meant exactly what he had said. She eyed him cautiously. "I need no help. Let me up and I will be on my way."

Patiently, he shook his head. "It is not safe for a woman to be traveling on her own."

"I was perfectly safe until you crossed my path."

"Well may you see it that way, but if I hadn't come along, someone else would have and you could be in great difficulty right now."

If she hadn't known it would hurt, she might have laughed. As it was, she had to content herself with a grimace. "Oh, you mean I could have been chased over a cliff?"

The warrior reddened, not with anger, which she would have understood in response to her derision, but with what looked very much like regret.

"I thought you were a boy in need of better manners. Had I realized you were a girl…" He paused and shrugged. "I would still have come after you because you really should not be without escort. But I would have tried to take you by surprise so you would not run off and get hurt."

Truth.

"Yes, well, that's fine, but there is no need for you to be concerned. I am meeting my… my brother just a short distance from here."

Strictly speaking, Normandy was a far journey. But there were much greater distances to go, all the way to fabled Byzantium or even to the lands farther to the east and south. If that weren't enough, there were tales of a land to the west where mountains ran with molten fury and vast vents of steam rose from the sundered earth. Some of those who claimed to have seen such a place told stranger stories yet of a land yet farther to the west, endowed with rugged coastlines and endless forests. Besides all that, Normandy might as Well be the neighboring village. So she wasn't really lying… not entirely.

"Fine," the warrior said. "I will take you to him."

Rycca closed her eyes in frustration. She opened them again to find him about to lift her into his too-strong arms. "There is no need! I can walk perfectly well. Besides…" She looked around quickly even though it hurt to move her head. "You have no horse."

He smiled and when he did… oh, sweet heaven, this was so unfair. He was by far the most compelling man she had ever seen, that was truth she could no longer deny. But when he smiled he undid her completely. She had to battle the sudden, mad urge to give him anything and everything he might desire. There was only scant comfort in the knowledge that her head injury might excuse her not being in her right mind.

He stood up, dusting sand off his steely thighs bare beneath his short tunic, and said, "Where does your brother await you?"

"My who?" Her mouth was very dry. That too was because of the fall and had nothing whatsoever to do with his nearness. Her heart was beating too fast probably for the same reason. A fall could do a lot of damage. Stranger yet was the sensation that she still had not touched ground and, indeed, might never do so.

"The brother you are going to meet?" He bent down again and looked at her closely. "Are you having trouble with your memory?"

"No! I'm perfectly fine." Except that she couldn't tell him where her brother was or he might decide to take her all the way to Normandy. She absolutely would not yield to the temptation that presented.

For that matter, she could not tell him
anything
. If he discovered who she was and why she was alone, he might take her straight to the very fate she was trying so desperately to elude. A warrior such as he had to be in service to some great lord. Her stomach roiled at the thought. He could be bound by oaths of loyalty that would make him act unquestioningly, no matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise.

Slowly, ignoring the pounding in her head, she forced herself to sit up too swiftly for him to stop her. Staring into the most perfectly formed male features she had ever seen, she asked the question that was suddenly uppermost in her mind. "Who are you?"

Such a simple question and one he would normally have answered without thought. Yet Dragon was silent. The girl was hiding something, of that he was certain. But what? She had told him nothing about herself save for the mention of a brother he doubted existed. Who then might she be?

She was young; no longer misled by her boy's garb, he judged her to be perhaps seventeen or eighteen. She could be wed and fleeing a husband she thought unkind. Or she might have absconded from a convent, having decided the cloister was not to her liking. If he was going to look at the situation honestly, he had to consider also that she might be escaping prosecution for some crime.

The thing to do was to take her to Hawkforte with him and let Hawk sort it out. Yet he was oddly reluctant to do so. Partly that was because of her beauty, which, the longer he looked at her, became ever more evident. But he knew himself too well to believe he could be swayed by beauty alone. It was her spirit that drew him as well, her courageous if foolhardy daring and her refusal to fawn upon him as women had always done.

The plain fact was that she puzzled him. Almost as much as he loved women and stories, Dragon loved puzzles. That was likely not coincidence. He had thought to steal a few days to hunt and generally distract himself from the fate looming over his head. But now he considered an even more pleasing prospect. He could do right by the girl and divert himself at the same time. Once she understood she had nothing to fear from him, she would confess her secret, whatever it was, and he would see her to safety as recompense for having so endangered her.

That was only fair, but what he would not do was let the darling creature have her way in all matters. He needed no further evidence beyond the fact that she was traveling alone to conclude that her judgment was not the best. He would protect her even from herself.

Having settled the matter in his mind, Dragon acted promptly. "I will tell you who I am when you have told me who you are."

She scowled at him. "It's just a simple question. Why can't you answer it?"

"Why can't you?"

At a loss for a moment, Rycca recovered quickly. "I asked you first."

Dragon grinned. He was enjoying this. Better yet, he saw his challenge had distracted her from the pain in her head, which he guessed was considerable. She was still very pale and dark shadows were creeping beneath her . eyes. The sooner she accepted that he was going to take care of her, the better.

"I don't think you remember who you are."

"I do so!"

"Then tell me."

Rycca started to reply, caught herself, and pressed her lips together in frustration. He had her neatly trapped. The longer she refused to divulge her identity, the more chance he might conclude the worst about her and take her to the authorities. Yet if she let him believe she was impaired from the fall, he would likely be even more determined not to leave her. She couldn't win in either case. Best then to seem to go along with him and wait for a chance to get away.

"My head hurts," she said. Again not a lie, for her skull pounded savagely. Yet she knew full well he would take it as an admission that her mind was not working properly.

His arms were around her before she could draw breath. He lifted her very gently and with no apparent effort. She was not a small woman but he made her feel absurdly like thistledown. Mayhap there really was something wrong with her mind.

"Where are you taking me?" He could tell her at least that much.

Dragon was already walking, feeling much happier now that he had her where she belonged. He stepped carefully to avoid jostling her. She was trying to keep her head up but that didn't last long. Soon enough she was leaning against his shoulder. "To a lodge no great distance away."

"Yours?"

"It belongs to a friend but I have the use of it. You can recover there."

"Then you are from here."

He looked down at her with a smile. "Did I say that?"

She winced, not up to more banter and feeling very weak. He saw it and was instantly repentant. "Enough chatter. You need to rest."

She subsided, but before long another question occurred to her. He had said the lodge was no great distance away, yet he had already carried her perhaps half a mile, as far as she could guess. That he did so with no sign of the slightest strain was not something she cared to dwell upon. Instead, she turned her thoughts in another direction.

"Why don't you have a horse?"

He looked at her chidingly but answered anyway. "I do have a horse."

"Where is it?"

"At the lodge. Enough now, be quiet and rest."

She obeyed but only because she had no choice. The shock of what had happened to her was finally setting in and she felt unutterably weary. Deciding she would close her eyes for just a few moments, Rycca slept.