Free Quick, Amanda by The Captive

offering him the mare's lead rope. She frowned when he made no move to
    take it. "Well?" "Well, what?" "I'm through here, for now. You may put Artemis in her stall." "May I?"
    Ashlynne frowned. "Are you going to put my horse away, or not?" Fighting the urge to grab the rope and
    wrap it around her pretty little neck, Falkon took a deep breath, then reached for the lead. Ashlynne
    stared at Number Four's hand. His palm was callused and smudged with dirt, his fingers were long and
    brown and strong, the nails broken and uneven. His fingertips brushed hers when he took the rope. He
    saw her eyes widen in shock at his touch, and then she jerked her hand away. As if she had touched
    something incredibly vile. Unreasoning anger roared through him. Without thinking, he took a menacing
    step toward her. The controller was in her hand in an instant, her thumb poised over the activation panel.
    One touch, and every muscle and nerve in his body would be screaming in agony. Ashlynne tightened her
    hold on the controller, her heart pounding as he halted in mid-stride. His blue-gray eyes had darkened to
    the color of cold stone. She drew herself up to her full height, irritated that she still had to look up to meet
    his gaze. "If you know what's good for you, Number Four, you will put my horse away." "And if I don't?"
    He forced the words through clenched teeth. She looked at him, obviously perplexed by his
    disobedience. "Why are you doing this?" "Doing what?" "Being so difficult." "It's your horse. Why don't
    you put it away?" "Because it's your job." "Why? Because I'm a slave?" She lifted her chin imperiously.
    "Yes." "Go to hell." "How dare speak to me like that! I demand that you do as I say." "Say please, and
    I'll consider it." Anger turned her eyes from sea green to deep emerald. "I will not!" "Say it." Her hand
    tightened on the controller. "Do as I say." Falkon shook his head, his whole body tensing as he watched
    her. She was soft and spoiled but not easily intimidated. He had to know how far he could push her;
    needed to know if she had the guts to use that damnable weapon. Unfortunately, there was only one way
    to find out. Last time, she had let Dain unleash the controller's power. But Dain wasn't here now. It was
    just the two of them. She took a deep breath. "I'm asking you for the last time." "And I'm saying no, for
    the last time." She hesitated, her expression uncertain, and Falkon took a step forward. If he could wrest
    the controller from her grasp, there was a chance, however slim, that he might be able to escape over the
    back wall. He was willing to risk whatever dangers the jungle might hold if it meant a chance at freedom.
    His hands clenched. He'd never get a better opportunity, he thought, and made a grab for the controller.
    Wild, unreasoning panic rose up within Ashlynne. Warnings went off inside her mind. He was the enemy.
    A mercenary. A man who had killed women and children without remorse. Fear for her own life
    overrode every other thought as she jerked her hand back, and activated the control panel. The
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    controllers effect was immediate and irrevocable. With a strangled cry, Number Four crumpled to the
    floor, his body turning and twisting, curling in on itself in an effort to escape the excruciating pain
    splintering through every nerve and cell of his being. Transfixed, Ashlynne stared down at him. Horrified
    by what she had done, by the pain she had willingly inflicted, she lifted her finger from the control panel.
    But there was no stopping it once it had begun. Unable to watch any longer, she turned and ran out of the
    barn. Gradually, his muscles relaxed. Badly shaken, his body still trembling, Falkon rose to his hands and
    knees. Head hanging, he gathered his strength, then lurched to his feet. He had underestimated her. It
    was a mistake he wouldn't make a second time. The following afternoon he was at work