Free Moonlight Rebel by Marie Ferrarella Page B

happens between a lady and myself."
    Krystyna looked down at her hands. They were clenched in her lap. She believed him. She had no idea why, but she believed him.
    "I wouldn't want to offend, or," the smile in his voice had her raising her eyes and looking in his direction, "spoil the chance of another interlude with you."
    She wasn't certain what the word meant, but she could guess. The glint in his eyes told her all she needed to know. "Nothing will ever happen between us again."
    He merely smiled in response. It was a soft smile, but it left no room for doubt or argument. "Don't place any money on that, Princess."
    Fisted hands rested on her hips as her eyes shot sparks at him. "You are insufferable!"
    "Maybe," he agreed, "but if you don't want any further problems with an 'insufferable' man, I suggest you button that jacket I gave you. You're presenting a picture that's far too tempting to resist for long."
    Krystyna thrust her hands over the jacket, pulling it closed, her cheeks flaming as a soft chuckle met her ears. She looked uncertainly down at the blanket and then back at Jason.
    He read her meaning. "Don't worry, I won't touch you tonight. You can go back to sleep."
    Uneasily, she lay down. After what seemed a long time, she calmed down sufficiently to close her eyes. Soon, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
    The sounds of men fighting and shouting roused her. Jumping to her feet, she saw that Jason was struggling with the two who had tried to ravage her. He must have fallen asleep, she thought, and those animals managed to sneak up on him.
    Jason kicked Fargo in the face, and the man yelped, releasing his hold on Jason's legs. As Jason tried to scramble to his feet, Peter pulled out a knife, his target Jason's belly. Uttering a cry, he brought his knife down, missing. He was hit from behind. Smoke plumed from the musket as the sound of a shot echoed through the forest. Peter pitched forward, dead, as Jason rolled out of the way.
    The odds suddenly shifting, Fargo leaped to his feet and ran for his horse. He never looked back to see if Peter was dead or alive.
    Brushing himself off, Jason rose to his feet. Fargo was already gone. There was no sense in giving chase. Jason knew what the two men had been after. Krystyna. Stunned, he looked in her direction. His brush with death had made all his senses acute.
    She stood before him, the musket still in hand, temporarily useless. This woman he had rescued was becoming an endless source of amazement to him.
    "My God, what else can you do?"
    She didn't seem to hear his question. Fear had seized her when she'd seen Peter raise the knife. She'd been certain that in another instant, Jason would be killed. Instinct had taken over, and she hardly remembered raising the musket to her shoulder.
    Krystyna came to his side. There was concern on her face as she looked him over. "Did they hurt you?"
    He shook his head, still amazed. "No. Fortunately for me you got off that lucky shot."
    He would think that, she thought, annoyance taking the place of concern. "The only part that was lucky was your leav ing the weapon within my reach —and that it was loaded." She stood over the dead man. A look of satisfaction came over her face as she looked down at the still form. In death, the man looked like the devil himself. "My father is partially avenged."
    Jason came up behind her. What manner of woman was she? "Partially?"
    She turned slightly to face him. "Someone had my father killed. He will not be avenged completely until that man is made to pay."
    She sounds more like a warrior than a woman, he thought. What sort of country breeds women like this? He looked at her closely. "Krys, just who are you, and why would someone want to have your father killed?"
    She raised her chin. She could not deny that something within her wanted to trust him, to share her burden and seek strength from somewhere other than inside herself. But she couldn't risk it. She was alone, and she would have to make the