Against the Wind by Anne Stuart Page B

down before long.”
    “Sí
, Murphy.” Shoulders back, head straight, Ramon turned and disappeared back down the stairs, like a soldier marching to his doom. Maddy watched him leave with a sense of panic.
    “You can’t kill him,” she said, her voice little more than a plea. “It wasn’t his fault, I took advantage of him. …”
    “Then it is time you learned that others might have to pay the price for your thoughtlessness,” he said. “Come along.”
    “You can’t kill him,” she said again. “I won’t let you.”
    He’d turned away, but at that stubborn note he turned back to look at her. “And how do you intend to stop me?”
    It was a reasonable enough question, one for which she had no answer. She stared up at him, despair and anger fighting for control. “I don’t know,” she said. “But I will.”
    To her amazement a wry smile lit the dark corners of his face for a moment. “Very fierce from the Mata Hari of San Pablo,” he murmured, his voice strangely like a caress. “Have no fear,
pequeña
, I am not going to killyoung Ramon. Nor do I eat children for breakfast. I’m not one of Ortega’s Gray Shirts.”
    If he expected her to bristle at the mention of her supposed lover, he was doomed to disappointment. She returned his smile with a brilliant one of her own. So grateful was she that she didn’t fight him when he took her wrist and led her up the wide staircase.
    “Where are you taking me?” she questioned after her first relief had worn off, following him docilely enough around the corner and down one dark, narrow alleyway of a hall.
    He didn’t bother to turn back this time, and his voice was distantly amused. “To your quarters for the night,” he replied. “My bedroom.”

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    It did her no good at all to pull away from him as he dragged her down the hallway. He took no more notice of her than if she’d been a recalcitrant child. The hallway was shadowy and deserted, dust and the ominous sound of scratching, scurrying things adding to her rising sense of unease.
    “I’m not going to sleep with you, Murphy,” she said, her voice quietly defiant.
    He didn’t even bother to look back. The flimsy wooden door opened easily beneath his strong hand, and a moment later she was pulled into a small, barren room, the door slamming shut behind them. A dim light bulb illuminated the shabby confines, the narrow, sagging bed that was neatly made, the roughly made dresser with its scraps of paper and change, the small pile of books by the bed. It looked like a monk’s cell.
    “I don’t give a damn whether you sleep or not,” Jake replied, releasing her wrist. “I don’t expect you will.”
    Somehow that seemed even more ominous. He looked tall and dark and very dangerous in the dimly lit bedroom, and it took all Maddy’s determination not to let him frighten her.
    She managed a cynical smile. “Are you planning to rape me?”
    Jake’s look would have withered a far braver woman. “No. I’m planning to ensure myself a good night’s sleep. Since it appears I can’t trust anyone to keep a good watch on you, I’m going to have to do it myself.”
    “If you’re watching me how will you be able to sleep?”
    His smile wasn’t reassuring. “I’m going to tie you to the bed. You won’t be able to unfasten the ropes without waking me.”
    “You wouldn’t dare!”
    “Spare me your dramatics. I’d dare just about anything,” he said in a weary voice. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”
    “No!”
    “No? If I were you I wouldn’t let pride and temper let you in for an even more uncomfortable night than I’ve already got planned. I won’t take too kindly to being woken up at three in the morning to take you to the bathroom.” His face and voice were implacable, and no more threat was necessary. “Do you need to go or not?”
    It would have been stupid beyond belief to say no again. Her eyes felt swollen and gritty from the contact lenses, and if her