Free Samantha James by His Wicked Ways Page A

things do not bother some, though blood can be a wet, sticky mess. Yet at least the end comes quick, or so ’tis said—”
    He was doing this to try to rile her. She struggled to keep hold of her resolve. A blight on his soul! she thought furiously. This was the only way, she told herself. Somehow she had to convince him that he had to free her.
    His calm was infuriating. “Be silent!” she told him.
    He paid no heed. “Of course, there is always the heart. Your aim must be straight and true, though, for if you miss, there is the chance I will live. And of course you must then have a care, lest the blade encounter a bone. Aye, your grip must be firm and tight. If, however, you wish to cause me a slow and prolonged death, then mayhap you should try for a belly wound. Aye, that’s the most painful of all. And if you turn the dagger just so—but quickly, mind you—you will feel the tearing of the flesh…”
    His grisly details turned her stomach. All at once she was shaking. Could she do this? she wondered frantically. Rob a man of his life? But a turn of the wrist, a downward slice, and his life would be forfeit.
    She could see the pulse throbbing strongly in his throat, the beat of his lifeblood…Could she watch as it ebbed to its last?
    The prospect left her sickened. She could not. She despised herself for even thinking she could. Guilt such as she had never known forged a searing hole inside her.
    She made as if to rise—the next moment, the dagger was struck from her hand and she was sprawled on her back. For one paralyzing instant, she couldn’t move—could not even breathe, for the air had been driven from her lungs by the weight of the man atop her. Her panic was renewed. She sought in vain to free herself, but alas! he had only to wrap steely-hard arms about her own and trap her legs within the iron-taut vise of his.
    At last she was still, exhausted by her efforts. Her breath coming in ragged spurts, she slowly raised her head.
    It spun through her mind that she’d been right. She’d ignited a blaze and she was now caught fast in its fiery midst. His fury was unconcealed. It vibrated through him, so intense she could feel it in the tautness of every muscle as he lay atop her body.
    “By God, I should kill you now!” His tone was scalding. He loomed above her, as hard and unyielding as the mountains.
    A cry of bitter frustration broke from her lips. Blindly she confronted him. “Then do it,” she cried. “Do it and have done with it, else you be the coward!”
    Too late she realized the brash challenge issued forth. Scorching fire leaped in his eyes. Something splintered across his features, and for one awful moment, the taste of fear was like dust in her mouth. Shewas convinced he would indeed head her cry.
    “Lass,” he said from between his teeth, “I marvel that I have not, so do not tempt me further! For rest assured, were I not such a benevolent soul, we would see who is the coward.”
    Something inside her twisted. Her daring was but a fool’s defiance; it was just as he’d said.
    She was a coward.
    His expression dark as the evening shadows, he released her. “You leave me no choice. I will not soon forget how you repaid my trust. Were I you, I would bear that in mind.”
    Tears scalded the back of her throat, but they were tears she vowed she would never surrender in his presence. She had thrown down the gauntlet…and lost.
    Now she must pay the price.
    He whistled for Fortune, who obediently trotted forward. Meredith did not move as he made quick work of saddling the stallion. When he was done, he beckoned her forward with a nod of his head.
    Meredith moved forward, stopping before him. Mutely she held out her hands.
    Several seconds passed before Cameron understood…She expected him to bind her wrists! He did not—ah, though he’d have liked to!—but no doubt she would brand him a coward anew! Nay, he’d not give her cause to taunt him yet again that his manhood was not