Three Goddess Series

Chapter 9

Groaning, Logan massaged his bruised muscles. He wanted to question the woman unconscious in the bed upstairs, but he had to wait until she woke. So he paced.

The door to his study flew open, and he stopped in his tracks when Harry scrambled in, his clothes and hair in disarray. Obviously, he'd been roused from his bed.

"Logan, you lucky fool! You caught the blackguard?" His smile was wide.

"I don't know."

A shadow of confusion dulled Harry's face. "What do you mean? I heard you caught the scoundrel in the act." He walked to a chair and sat. "What happened?"

"I went for a ride to exercise, and hoped I could catch the thief." He took the chair opposite Harry, and sighed heavily. "Fortunately, I came upon someone in the southern pastures. Unfortunately, the person dashed into the woods before I could see them clearly. I gave chase, and caught up before the trespasser could get too far. As soon I was close enough, I sprang from Gehenna's back, and tackled them."

Harry shot from his seat. "Huzzah! You caught the dirty bastard. That is quite heroic. Did you take him to the magistrate?" he asked in a loud, breathless voice. "Have you questioned him? Did he confess all?"

"Sadly, no confession is forthcoming."

"Why the devil not?" Harry rumbled, his brows pulled together over his eyes, and his lips pinched in a sour moue.

"Well, I launched myself headlong from Gehenna's back, which, consequently, launched the perpetrator headfirst into a large rock."

Harry's eyes doubled in size. "Is he dead?"

"No. Unconscious." Logan drew a deep breath. "And it isn't a he."

Harry's eyes grew larger. "It was a woman?"

"Yes." The memory, fresh and hellish, surfaced.

"After a thrilling and much needed dash across the estate, I crested the hill overlooking the southern pastures, and pulled Gehenna to a stop. Only seconds after I'd reined her in, a bright flash of light exploded in the corner of my eye. The light wasn't the only thing I saw, there was a lone dark figure crouched amongst my sheep."

He paused to swallow.

"Spurring Gehenna into motion, I raced down the hill, but the woman made a break for the tree line. She was trying to get away, but I bent lower over the pommel, and dug my heels into Gehenna's side. As I gained ground, the woman turned to look behind her, and I jumped from the saddle-keep in mind I didn't know it was a woman at the time-and collided with her. She landed with a loud thud."

As the memory crashed into him, Logan paused in his recollection. After he landed, he caught his breath, and pulled into a crouch, rolling the unconscious man over to inspect him.

It wasn't a him. Shock pealed through him as he peered down at the bloodied face of a female. Gasping, he recognized the soft, lush curves under his rough hands. He wet his lips, and whistled for a grazing Gehenna. Once he deposited the woman onto the saddle, he made his way back to the Manor.

Forty-five minutes later, he strode through the kitchen doors calling for hot water, clean linens, and a footman to fetch Dr. Blige.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he carried his captive to one of the smaller guest rooms in the rear of the east wing, and laid her on the bed. Within moments, Mrs. Roomer, the capable housekeeper, was hurrying about the room.

Two hours later, it neared midnight, and he was yet, not allowed entrance to the room. The doctor was still performing his examination.

"A woman? Are you sure?" Harry's incredulous tone worked its way under Logan's skin.

"I cannot deny what I have seen with my own eyes."

Or felt with my own hands.

"Also..." Logan began.

"Please tell me there's more." Harry's smile came to the fore.

"There is. She's Roma." He held his breath.

"God in heaven!"

Harry's frown curved from one side of his chin to the other. "Are you sure?"

Logan nodded.

The woman's loose, pleated skirt was identical in fashion to the skirts women of the Rom preferred to wear, and her shoulder-baring blouse was the same immodest, sultry affair so common among the caravans. Clothing aside, her long black hair, and olive skin declared her ancestry.

She was beautiful. Dangerous.

A seething anger rose in his breast, calling for vengeance, screaming for retribution. The Roma woman convalescing in the room upstairs had a lot to answer for.

***

Drowning in a pool of blackness, Haven slowly surfaced, gasping for air.

Blinking through the blurriness, she raised her hand to inspect the throbbing pain radiating from her forehead.

What happened this time?

With startling clarity, she recalled the large black beast, and its rocket-propelled rider.

Damn it! The jerk on horseback knocked her headfirst into a rock.

Groaning, she turned her head and was rewarded with the blurry outline of a man dressed in dark colors hunched over a table.

Oh, God!

Fear, her new best friend, welled up, accompanied by anger and annoyance. Her head pounded, her body was one big bruise, and she had no idea where she was and with whom. This day just kept getting better.

The man turned and said, "Well, hello there. My name is Dr. Blige. You took a nasty fall. I've done my best to clean and dress your wound. You've lost some blood and are probably in a bit of pain. Try not to move."

He's very good at stating the obvious.

She didn't know how to react to this current situation; flying through a black void, landing in sheep poo, being chased by a strange man, getting knocked unconscious, waking up in a strange room, getting examined by a doctor with a cheesy British accent. What the hell was she supposed to do other than what she was told?

Dr. Blige motioned to a woman standing beside the door, and when she disappeared, he turned back to her.

"Can you tell me where you are? Do you remember what happened?"

Not quite willing to take the leap that this wasn't a dream, she nodded.

"Are you in pain?"

Again, she nodded.

Dr. Blige reached into his bag for a small vial. "I can give you something."

Shaking her head, she immediately regretted it. Pain speared its way to the hollow behind her eyes. Clamping them shut, she moaned.