Читать книгу The Enemy's Kiss - Zandria Munson - Страница 11

Nicholas shoved through the door of the estate’s kitchen. He was in a foul mood. Not only had Daniela nearly gotten them both killed, but for the price of learning very little about the location of the missing rune. And to top it all off, they’d not managed to escape a sudden storm and were presently soaking wet.

Daniela’s knees buckled just as they entered the room and he caught her before she touched the floor. She was no doubt weakened by the fair amount of blood she’d lost.

“Sit,” he instructed as he guided her into the room.

Daniela complied, seating herself at the polished mahogany table that sat in the center of the kitchen. Matching countertops and cupboards lined one side of the room and a small couch sat near the rear wall.

Nicholas headed for a cupboard and returned with a wooden box and a bottle of brandy. He looked at the blood-soaked rag that she’d used as a makeshift tourniquet. The bleeding had stopped. Carefully, she released the knot that secured it into place and bit down on her bottom lip, but remained silent. Nicholas could tell that although she hid it well she was in much pain.

He placed the box on the table and opened the lid. It contained medicinal items from a modern first aid kit and a few that were similar to those used in the 1900s. He went to the sink and returned with a bowl of water.

“I will need to clean your wound and the bullet must be extracted. Remove your pants,” he told her.

Her attention snapped to him. “I don’t think so,” she told him flatly.

His eyes narrowed on her. The wound was bound to become infected if it wasn’t tended to, and he needed her alive and well. He was sure that she would be contacted the following night once she didn’t show up with the second rune. His plan was simple. He would have her admit to encountering trouble, but state that she’d managed to steal the rune anyway. As the monastery would no longer be deemed a safe haven and the delivery of the item would already be late, he would have her offer to deliver the stone to the source itself. “Remove your pants or I will remove them for you,” he warned.

Their eyes locked, hers relaying a fierce defiance. He could see her weighing her options. It was futile to defy him for it was he who determined her fate. Her jaw hardened and he knew that she’d come to this very conclusion.

With a dark scowl that made her sleek brows pucker, she used the table for support and pushed to her feet. She stared up at him, her head barely level with his chin. When he remained as he was she let out an exasperated sigh that made her ample chest rise temptingly.

“Can you at least give me some privacy?” she asked.

Nicholas pondered the humor of her request. She could certainly be amusing in all her tartness. To think that he would turn his back on her a second time was foolish.

“I assure you, you have nothing I have not seen before.” He brought his arms up to cross over his chest. “Proceed.”

If possible, her eyes grew even more venomous. “You arrogant son of a bitch,” she gritted out as she jerked the single button at her waistband open.

“Spoken like a true criminal deviant,” he countered.

He watched as she yanked the zipper down, revealing a surprisingly lacy thong. What he’d originally thought was white turned out to be a soft pink. There was even a little bow fastened to the band. His gaze trailed to her face as she pushed the left leg carefully over her injury. It seemed there lay some softness beneath her calloused exterior after all.

With her pants rolled to her knees she eased back into the chair. Nicholas assumed it was her pride that prevented her from trying to conceal the beautiful curve of her hips and thighs. She sat still even as he kneeled before her and removed a packet of gauze from the kit then began swabbing at the blood that had dried about the point of entry.

“You would do well to take a drink of that brandy,” he suggested.

Daniela shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll need all my wits about me in case you try something.”

His gaze slid to her face. “If it was my intent to try something, no measure of wit would save you, be assured.”

She was silent, no doubt absorbing his words. “Funny,” she said at last. “For someone with so much money you certainly weren’t taught very many manners.”

He snorted. “Scolded by a woman who makes her living stealing from others. How I have fallen,” he scoffed.

His humor wasn’t taken well and her eyes narrowed on him. “Why are you holding me here? To torture me with your sarcasm?” she asked.

He studied her for a moment, noting the way her damp hair had curled about her face and shoulders. “You have not served your full purpose yet,” he told her. “You are my only hope of finding the rune and the one who hired you to steal it. Until I do, you will remain here.”

“I believe that’s called kidnapping.”

He nodded in agreement. “Perhaps it is, but you are hardly in the position to alert the authorities, are you?” Without waiting for her response, he dipped a fresh wad of gauze into the bowl and moved lower on her thigh. He noted another small bullet hole. It could’ve been an exit wound, but it was curiously small. He would have to be certain. He removed a small pair of forceps from the kit.

“This will hurt, but I will be done with it as quickly as I can.”

“Just get it over with,” she snapped.

Nicholas watched her curiously. He’d been thoroughly impressed by her fighting skill and her courage. She had a hard strength about her that wasn’t ordinarily seen in women of the modern era. This, coupled with her beautiful face and form made her quite desirable. But this was business. His family’s future was at stake and he would have no dealings with the one who was partially responsible for bringing it down upon them. Not that she would permit it anyway. The woman was a shrew.