Midnight Rider by Kat Martin

her to march through the hills. Fear niggled at her insides. Carly lifted her chin. “I don’t believe you. You’re vile—despicable—an outlaw and probably a murderer. Whatever your reasons for seeing to my care, they only have to do with your own selfish plans.”
    His eyes remained fixed on her face. “If I were you, I would feel the same way. Perhaps in time, you will see that is not the way it is.”
    Carly pondered that. She didn’t believe him, not for an instant. “If what you say is true, why the sudden change of heart? I’m still the woman I was. The woman you despise. The woman you hold responsible for the death of—”
    â€œDo not say it, for it is not so.” The skin across his high cheekbones went taut. A subtle tension moved over his tall, solid frame. “I am the one at fault,” he said softly. “It is not usually my way to blame others for sins of my own making.”
    There was something in his eyes, something she had seen there before, a bleakness shadowed by pain, but this time it was not overridden by anger. And it seemed to be directed inward, at himself, not at her.
    Carly knew what it meant to lose a loved one. The heartbreak, the hollow place that would never again be filled. Her family was gone. Her sister, her father, her mother. It hurt just to think of it. It bothered her to imagine he might be feeling the same sort of pain, and a sweep of pity moved through her.
    She ruthlessly forced it down. A man like the don didn’t deserve her pity. He wouldn’t even want it.
    â€œFlorentia says that I am your guest. If that is so, then I appreciate your generosity, Don Ramon, but I would prefer to end my stay. There is much that needs attending to back at Rancho del Robles, and I’m certain my uncle will be worried about me.”
    A corner of his mouth curved up. “You have never impressed me as a fool, chica. Surely you must know that I cannot let you leave.”
    Carly smiled grimly. “Then surely you must know that I am not your guest. I am your prisoner. There is a great deal of difference.”
    â€œOnly if you make it so.” He leaned back against the wall, propping a wide shoulder against it. “You will be allowed to roam the compound. There is only one way down and the trail is well guarded. I do not believe you could find your way home even if you managed to escape.”
    Carly said nothing.
    The don regarded her closely. “I would change things, chica, if I could. Unfortunately, it is too late for such a thing. In the meantime, there are good people here, people who will treat you with kindness, perhaps even friendship, if that is your wish.”
    â€œUntil when, Don Ramon? How long are you planning to keep me here against my will?”
    The don shook his head. Glossy black hair moved against the open collar of his shirt. His neck was lean and corded with muscle, and curly black chest hair sprang up from the vee in his shirt. “I am afraid I cannot say.”
    â€œIs it money you’re after? Do you mean to seek a ransom? If you do, you may discover I’m not worth as much as you think.”
    His hard features softened, his eyes moving over her with something that might have been pity. It made her feel exposed, naked, as if he could see inside her to the person she really was. The notion frightened her even more than the don himself.
    â€œRansom is not my intent,” he said.
    â€œThen let me leave. If you wish me to accept your word, then you accept mine—if I’m allowed to leave, I’ll tell no one who you are or where this place is.”
    Soft laughter rumbled from his chest. “I am sorry, senorita, I cannot do that. Even if I were willing to accept your word, there are others here who would not.”
    Carly turned away from him, furious yet oddly disturbed. She didn’t trust him. She knew how cold and callous he was. But there was something different