Free A Kiss of Adventure by Catherine Palmer Page A

kiss, even though it had been feather light, burned in a way Arthur’s never had. Confused, she stared into his eyes as if he could explain why. He shouldn’t have done it. She shouldn’t have wanted him to. But he had, and she had. And now her heart hammered in her ears, and her lungs couldn’t seem to take in enough air.
    “Looks like we made off with a mess of fish,” he said, turning away. “No wonder those two fellows were so mad. We stole their boat and their dinner.”
    “Mmm,” she murmured, barely hearing him. She had wanted him to kiss her. She couldn’t deny it. She looked down into the boat. The minute Graeme had grabbed her off the street, she had felt them moving toward this moment. Now it was done, and she had betrayed the good, Christian man who loved her.
    “It’s really more a dugout than a boat,” he said. “No seats.”
    She stared blankly at the rough fishing net, a length of damp rope, and the fish. A dozen or more perch lay squirming wide-eyed in a waterproof basket filled with water.
    She couldn’t let it happen again. She wouldn’t. Graeme was not the right kind of man for her, no matter how attractive she found him. Come to think of it, maybe that was why she found him so attractive. Because he was dangerous, risky, all wrong.
    You don’t even know who he really is, she chastised her heart. You’ve seen so many sides of him you don’t know which is the real Graeme McLeod.
    What about his quest for the document and the treasure? Was he a treasure seeker like the Tuareg? Or had she guessed right about him being part of the rare-book smuggling ring? If not that, then probably some other illegal venture.
    Whatever he was, Graeme was not for her. She couldn’t fall victim to his rugged looks and his air of adventure when she knew his heart wasn’t right.
    Be strong in the Lord, she told herself. Be of good courage.
    “Did you notice that village we passed a few minutes ago?” he was saying. “I bet those fishermen live there. We’ll send their boat back to them once we hit Segou.”
    Tillie had not seen the village. In fact, she had done nothing but think of the escape. And then the kiss. Biting her lip, she hugged herself against the chill morning air. She had to get past it and move on toward her goal of handing her problems with the Tuareg to the authorities. Once she could get away from Graeme, the turbulent feelings he aroused inside her would ebb. Everything would be the same again. Normal. Comfortable. Predictable.
    Graeme was handling the oar, expertly steering them midcur rent around floating driftwood and an occasional jutting boulder. She watched him, telling herself to recognize the truth. He was just an ordinary man; his kiss had been nothing more than a gut response to their escape; her inner turmoil was merely lack of sleep and a good meal.
    “You’ve been on a boat before,” she said, making conversation.
    “Haven’t you?”
    “Sure. But you’re good at rowing. Last time I tried it, I went in circles.”
    He smiled, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners. “I guess in my line of work I’ve learned to run just about anything that moves. Boats. Motorcycles. Hot-air balloons. I ran a train once. Kabul, Afghanistan. Great place.”
    “Can you fly a plane?”
    “Never actually done it, but I’ve watched the procedures often enough. I reckon I could.”
    She lifted an eyebrow. “A plane is pretty complicated.”
    He shrugged. “You do what you have to do. I bet you never thought you’d be able to knock away a broadsword in full swing.”
    She fell silent. “They’ll be following us down the river, won’t they?”
    “Yes.”
    “What’s the next town on the river?”
    “Segou.”
    “There’ll be a phone there. Police.” She met his eyes. “I’m going to the authorities, Graeme. I want this thing over.”
    He leaned back in the boat and stretched out his legs. Regarding her with a look she couldn’t fail to read, he laid down the oar and let