Free Until Forever by Johanna Lindsey Page A

thoughts as well.
    The very loose, thin white tunic he was wearing wasn’t tied at the neck and nearly slipped off his shoulder as he shrugged in response. A good portion of his chest was bare, and his dark brown leggings were tucked into soft high boots that were cross-gartered to his knees. He would have looked very casual, almost harmless, if there weren’t a scabbard attached to his wide belt. It was empty, but the vicious-looking, long-bladed dagger right next to it kept her from being relieved about that.
    And then she had an answer from him, of sorts, “You may summon me, but I choose where to set my feet, and I chose not to set them down for the moment.”
    That he would be setting them down right in front of her when he got around to dropping from that tree made her leap up and move out of his jumping distance. His laugh was soft, knowing. He knew exactly what she was feeling, how apprehensive he made her. Hardly conducive to a good bargaining position—for her.
    She was wearing a long, ankle-length skirttoday in a blue and yellow floral design, with a yellow silk tank top that she hadn’t bothered tucking in or belting, and sandals. She would have worn long sleeves if the weather weren’t so warm, so this was as close as she could get to what he was more accustomed to seeing women wear. After all, women’s knees hadn’t made an appearance out of the bedroom until this century, and it wasn’t until the last century that a few had bravely worn men’s pants. And she had no idea in what century he’d last been summoned—another thing she meant to find out.
    She was wearing her glasses like battle armor, and her hair was even more tightly bunned than usual, just for good measure. She’d known she had been taking a risk that he would feel challenged to remove her glasses and hairpins again, but getting the message across that she had no intention of deliberately trying to attract him was more important.
    Now she squared her shoulders and tried to correct the cowardly impression she’d just given him. And in the tone that managed to get two-hundred-and-fifty-pound jocks sitting up straighter in their chairs, she said, “I wish to talk to you, Thorn.”
    He wasn’t impressed. In fact, his expression, just before he pushed off of that tree limb, said he was amused. “You may do so—after.”
    He’d dropped to the ground about six feet away from her, but unfortunately, that wasn’twhere he stayed. But she stood her ground as he approached. Running just wasn’t going to lend conviction to her ultimatum, which had to come out immediately, before he closed the gap between them.
    “One more step, and you’ll never get back to where you come from.”
    He stopped, about two feet away from her, within reaching distance, but he didn’t reach. Instead, he was looking at the ground between them as if he expected a trap to open up there and swallow him whole. Since it appeared to be no more than it was, soft grass with a few pink flowers, he looked elsewhere, all around him in fact, and his very tenseness told her he wasn’t discounting the possibility that an entire army was hiding in the wheatfields.
    Without looking at her, still trying to find the tip of an arrow or the flash of a sword, he said urgently, “Explain, lady. What will keep me here?”
    She considered running then, because after what she knew he’d just been thinking she was certain he’d be enraged by what she was about to say. She said it anyway.
    “I will.”
    His eyes came slowly back to her. At first, they were confused, then merely curious.
    “You will? How will you?”
    She had to clear her throat to get out, “By not saying the words that will release you.”
    Still he showed no anger. Actually, heseemed amused. “So you would keep me with you?”
    The conclusion he’d drawn startled her, and she narrowed her eyes on him to show that she didn’t share his amusement. “I don’t think you understand. All I want from you, Thorn,