Read Amanda Rose for Free Online

minute, she would almost have felt sorry for him. After all, she wouldn’t have been able to stand seeing even a mad dog in his condition without wanting to do what she could to alleviate its suffering. But, then, a crazed murderer, sick or well, was a different proposition from even a mad dog …
    Finally his hair was as dry as she could get it, and she sank back onto her heels, eyeing him, the petticoat in her lap.
    “Wrap that thing around me as well as you can, will you?” he requested next, and it was a request, not an order, despite the gruffness of his tone. Amanda did as he told her, spreading the damp linen over his chest and tucking it in around his shoulders and neck. It covered perhaps a third of his body, leaving his hips and long legs protected from the wind only by the raggedy breeches. The petticoat could not have provided much comfort, but he snuggled into it as if it were the woolliest of blankets.
    “What did you say your name was? Amanda? Amanda Rose?”
    Amanda nodded, slowly backing away from him as she did so, eyeing him warily. Now that she had seen to his comfort to the best of her ability, would he decide her usefulness was at an end and wrap those long, strong fingers around her neck?
    “What are you doing wandering around in the dark, Amanda Rose? Did you sneak out to meet someone? A man, perhaps?”
    “Yes.” Her voice must have been a shade too eager, because he looked at her silently for an instant before slowly shaking his head.
    “Don’t lie, Amanda.” It was surprising how formidable he could sound, even lying flat on his back with his body racked by tremors and his shoulders huddling into her torn petticoat.
    “I’m not,” she began, then gave it up. She had always been a dreadful liar anyway; it was no wonder he could see through her clumsy attempts at subterfuge. “I often walk on the beach before the sun comes up. I … like to be alone.”
    “So you weren’t looking for me?”
    “ No. ” She spoke so fervently that his lips moved in the semblance of a wry smile. Amanda stared at the crooked twist of those lips, thinking that it made him seem suddenly so much more human. Maybe he wasn’t totally evil after all, she thought. Maybe, just maybe, he had done what he had out of sincere political convictions. If so, it meant that he was that much less likely to murder her out of hand … she hoped.
    “No, I suppose not.” He forced the words out through teeth that were clenched suddenly to stop them from chattering. The ghost of a smile vanished as suddenly as it had come, and for a moment he closed his eyes. Amanda watched him hopefully. If she was lucky, he might pass out …
    “I presume your family has a house somewhere nearby?” His eyes were open again, but Amanda thought his voice sounded a bit weaker.
    “N-no,” she answered, then as he looked at her sharply her tone became defensive. “It’s the truth. I live in the convent at the top of the cliff. I’m a pupil there.”
    “I see.” He was silent for a moment, apparently digesting the information. When he spoke again, she knew she was not imagining the weakening of his voice. “Are there any outbuildings? A place where I could rest—out of the cold and this damned wind?”
    Amanda thought quickly. The only outbuilding the convent possessed was a small tool shed well within the grounds. If she could get him up there, all she would have to do was scream and the entire population of the convent—eleven girls and twenty nuns—would be out upon them in a matter of seconds. And he couldn’t possibly kill thirty-odd females. She didn’t think he had a weapon.
    “Yes,” she said at last, but again she must have hesitated too long because he eyed her with some suspicion.
    “If you’re lying to me …” He let his voice trail off, but the threat was unmistakable. Amanda shivered. When he spoke like that, she had no difficulty believing that he was capable—more than capable—of cold-blooded