Read Rapture's Betrayal for Free Online

that leg, you can have what I’ve brought you to eat.” She glanced teasingly under the linen square covering her basket, but when her gaze met his, twinkling blue eyes dimmed under his intent look.
    â€œIs something wrong?” she asked. “Is it your leg? It pains you?” Setting down her basket, she knelt beside him.
    â€œMy legs hurts like hell, but I’ll live.” Richard winced when she pulled at the bandages. He shifted against the wall and was assailed by a strange, strong odor. “What’s that foul smell?”
    â€œOther than you, mynheer? ” She glanced up from the exposed gash.
    â€œI suppose it could be me, couldn’t it?” His lips curved ruefully.
    â€œIt could, but it’s not. The smell you mean is from those rags over there.” She gestured to a small pile a few feet away. “Your poultice.”
    Richard blinked. “You put that godawful thing on my leg? No wonder it burns like hell.”
    Kirsten stiffened. “It burns like hell, because you were stabbed in the leg with a bayonet. I assure you the poultice did more good than harm. It only smells because it’s rancid—old.”
    As she spoke, she probed the wound gently. She was satisfied with its healing. Kirsten rebound the wound with a clean strip of linen fabric and rose to her feet. Collecting the offensive rags from the floor, she grimaced at the odor and then kicked loose the cellar board blocking the exit. She disposed of the rags where no one would stumble upon them and then returned to the cellar and her patient, who gave her a weak smile.
    â€œDon’t look so smug. The air in here is still not as sweet as it should be.”
    The man’s face turned red, and she instantly felt contrite. She smiled an apology. He had been seriously injured and had no control of his condition. She’d help him bathe in the stream outside as soon as he was stronger. “Have you ever had olijkoecks, myn —”
    â€œMy name is Richard,” he insisted.
    Her face felt heated under his warm look. “Richard.”
    â€œNo, what are olij . . . ?” He frowned, but his eyes sparkled.
    â€œ Olijkoecks. They are delicious batter cakes . . . and I’ve brought some freshly picked berries.” She reached for her satchel and removed one of the cakes, which had become hard and unappetizing. “I’m afraid it is stale and won’t taste very good now. I brought it last night, but you were too ill to eat.”
    â€œIt will be fine,” he assured her, reaching for the cake.
    Kirsten watched the soldier take a tentative bite of the olijkoeck before devouring it. He must be starving, she thought. After lifting the cloth off the basket, she offered him the ripe, red strawberries.
    Richard’s eyes glowed with delight as he sampled the fruit. Warmth filled Kirsten as she sat back on her haunches. Watching him eat was pure pleasure for her. He popped a berry between his sensual lips, and a dribble of red juice ran down his chin. Kirsten had a sudden, strange urge to taste some of the sweet juice herself . . . to lick just below that masculine mouth. She shuddered, aghast at her own thoughts. Her breasts tingled, and she felt her belly turn over. Embarrassed, she looked away.
    The light in the cellar room was relatively strong, and she could see the man clearly. His eyebrows were thick and darker than his tawny mane. There was whisker stubble on his square jaw in all shades of blond and gold. She met his eyes, which appeared to turn color, from russet to a warm golden brown. She was fascinated to realize that his eye color changed with his mood.
    There was a small scar across his brow. Where and how did he get it?
    Despite his present state of health, Richard appeared all male, with a power that disturbed her. Kirsten recalled the strength of his grip when she’d first found him. He might look slim, but his muscles were firm. When faced head-on,