Burke's Rules. Pat Tracy

going on.”

      “Do you?”

      

      “I’m not some innocent young miss to have the wool pulled over my eyes.”

      “Aren’t you?”

      “And don’t try to intimidate me with those surly two-word questions of yours. It won’t work.”

      “Won’t it?”

      She ground her teeth. New pain radiated in her skull. “It’s perfectly obvious what evil designs you’ve had in mind for me all along. And if you say, ‘Is it?’ I swear I shall blacken your eye.”

      “Will you, indeed?”

      She knew he’d deliberately crafted the three-word question to drive her insane. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear the trip would be all that far. She felt pushed to the outer boundaries of reason. One more sarcastic remark from him would complete the journey.

      “Where am I?”

      “I assume you would like a more specific answer than Denver.”

      Her hands curled into fists. Composure, she breathed. It was essential that she retain control of her roiling emotions. So far as she could determine the fiend hadn’t taken advantage of her unconscious state. At least, she didn’t think he had. Could a woman tell if she’d been ravished?

      Surely, a barbarian the likes of Burke Youngblood would leave telltale evidence of his lovemaking. Euphemia’s graphic explanation of a how a man physically invaded a woman’s body would cause a twinge or two, wouldn’t it?

      Jayne’s eyes remained sealed shut beneath the damp cloth that rode low on her forehead. She concentrated intensely, focusing on the critical juncture between her thighs. If there was any discomfort there, however, it was obliterated by the throbbing in her head.

      Unable to trust the messages her body was sending, she took comfort in logic. If Burke Youngblood had had his evil way with her, would he have taken the trouble to redress her in her chemise and pantalettes? She considered the question. He was a man of complex layers. He disguised his carnal nature behind the facade of a self-controlled businessman, but he had a devious side. He might restore her clothing to lull her into a false feeling of security.

      She forced herself to draw another steadying breath. Now wasn’t the time to panic. She would have an accounting of his actions, and then she would deal with the repercussions—after she killed him.

      “Tell me the worst of it,” she instructed.

      “The worst?”

      “Yes, I need...” She swallowed. “I need to know how bad things are.”

      Burke saw that Jayne was becoming more agitated with each passing moment. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. She was safe from the violence that had broken out on the boardwalk. True, she’d been struck a hard blow, but he sensed the emotions making her voice tremble had little to do with her physical aches. Her color had been normal when she’d regained consciousness, but now she was flushed.

      Guilt burrowed deeply inside him at failing to shield her from the vicious mayhem that had erupted around them. The fundamental tenet of being a man was to protect those weaker than himself. He’d placed Jayne under his care, and he’d let her down.

      How did a man apologize for failing to safeguard the woman under his protection? Gall burned the back his throat at having to acknowledge to her and himself he’d failed.

      He decided to postpone the bitter reckoning. “Backing up to your earlier question, you’re in bed.”

      “Whose?” she virtually croaked.

      He’d damned well been tempted to put her in his own. But at the last minute, sanity overrode the crazy temptation, and he’d carried her into one of his guest chambers. Under the circumstances, he doubted she was in the mood to appreciate his clear thinking.

      “You’re in one of the guest bedrooms of my home.”

      He could almost feel the increased tension radiating from her.

      Her hand went to her forehead. She pulled off the cloth. “When I open my eyes, I expect you to have removed yourself from this bed.”