Free Heart Of A Highland Warrior by Anita Clenney Page B

with me? Tell me about when you were a child.”
    She never talked about her childhood. But somehow here in the dungeon with this stranger who had no memories, it seemed safe. Whatever she had, good or bad, it was more than he had.
    “I lived with my mother. I never knew my…father.” Her mother hadn’t either. “My mother was a powerful woman at one time. Very strong.” Strong enough to make tough decisions. “And kind. But something terrible happened, and it destroyed her.” For years she ’d believed her mother had died at the hands of a demon when she ’d really killed herself. The clan hadn’t told Anna. That made her angry, but she understood in a way. She had just started her duty. Knowing the truth would have destroyed her. She would never have known if Angus hadn’t found her mother’s death certificate. “I miss her.” There were times when she ’d felt her mother’s love. When they ’d almost felt normal.
    “I’m sorry it was bad. Didn’t your mother tell you anything about your father?”
    “No. She never spoke of him.” And Anna learned not to ask.
    “Do you live nearby?” he asked.
    “No. I have a flat in London, and I spend a lot of time in Scotland.”
    “Scotland?” He sounded the word as if testing it.
    She suspected he knew Scotland well. “I travel a lot for work.”
    “What do you do?” he asked, and she thought she heard a note of suspicion in his voice.
    “Um, it’s hard to explain.” As much as she wanted to open up to him, she couldn’t say much until she was sure he was a warrior.
    “Why do you have to work?”
    Odd question. “Everyone has to work if they want to eat.” Her job just wasn’t typical. Not many humans got their orders from an angel. “My friends help me.” She thought of the others—Ronan, Sorcha and Duncan, Faelan, and now Bree, Shay, Cody…Angus. They were her family now. And she ’d abandoned them to stew in her grief over Angus. Angus would be pissed if he knew. Maybe he did know. Maybe he was watching her now. Watching them. Maybe she was loopy with drugs. She definitely wasn’t herself. She almost felt drunk. She snuggled closer to the warmth at her back, wishing the prisoner would hold her even tighter. God, what did they give me? she thought, as the weight of her lids pulled her under.

CHAPTER FIVE

    A GROAN WOKE Anna. A strong arm, bruised and laced with cuts, was wrapped around her waist. Her instinct was to fight, but she felt a warm breath caress her ear and the body at her back, and she remembered where she was and who held her.
    “No,” he whispered. “They’ll forget.” His arm tensed, and his breath came faster, harsher. “No!”
    Anna strained against his arm, and he tightened his grip, making it hard to breathe. She broke his hold and rolled over, putting her hand on his face to calm him. His arm came out, catching her in a blow that knocked her against the wall.
    Winded, Anna crawled back to him. “Wake up.” He continued tossing, throwing the blanket aside. He smacked his head on the floor, and she wondered if some of his injuries had come from fighting his dreams. Ducking to avoid another blow, she dove between his fists and grabbed him. If he didn’t stop, he would reopen all the wounds on his back. He grunted and tried to swing again, but she kept her arms tight around him, avoiding the injured areas. It wouldn’t help for long. He was as strong as a bull. “Wake up!”
    His eyes opened, but they were vacant. There was a damp trail at one corner. She released his arms and leaned back. “Are you OK?”
    He didn’t speak. He covered his face, and Anna could hear his labored breathing. He lowered his hands, and the look in his eyes was so lost, she couldn’t help but touch his face. He pressed his cheek against her palm.
    When his hand touched her side and moved over her back, winding in her hair, she didn’t resist. Not when he gently pulled her face to his or softly touched her cheek. His breath was warm