Taken By Storm by Donna Fletcher Page B

those of her son, Tanin. Malcolm had also disappeared, as had Angus.
    Had they all left on another mission?
    Damn, he hated being left out.
    He was going to have to make it very clear to Storm that he wanted to be advised of her whereabouts at all times.
    He laughed, as he knew she would. What right did he have to demand anything from her? He was a stranger and therefore a safety risk. Why should she tell him anything? She really had been generous so far with him. She had searched for his brotherimmediately and provided a safe haven for him while he awaited his funds. He had no right demanding anything.
    Angus stepped out of the woods, a big man, the size and width of a bear, though gentler. He carried fresh fish on a pole and smiled as he approached.
    “Where is everyone?” Burke asked anxiously.
    “A good morning to you,” Angus said, walking past him to the campfire and kneeling to prepare the fish.
    Burke followed him. “Tanin, Malcolm, and Storm are gone—”
    “Sit,” Angus instructed with a nod. “They’ll be here shortly.”
    “You know where they went?”
    “Aye.”
    Burke wanted to rip the answer from the man. He was tired of his questions being evaded, tired of secrets, tired of being treated like the enemy.
    “Tell me,” he demanded.
    Angus glanced up at him. “All you had to do was ask.”
    “I’m asking.”
    “We got word hours ago that William and Philip were near and needed assistance. They have your brother with them. He’s injured.”

Chapter 11
    S torm entered camp just ahead of her men. She wanted to speak with Burke privately but he rushed at her, not giving her a chance.
    “Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
    Stunned that his concern for her preempted his concern for his brother, Storm merely nodded her head.
    “Make certain you have Janelle take a look at your shoulder.”
    Again not a mention of his brother, his concern focused on her, and it reminded her of how Daniel used to worry over her. It was heartfelt, and the endearing thought near pierced the protective armor she kept wrapped around her.
    Burke Longton was simply a considerate man, no more.
    William and Malcolm entered the village supporting a man barely able to walk. Tanin followed, and they rushed to Janelle’s hut at the base of a tree where she tended the ailing and injured during the day.
    Burke rushed alongside them and Storm followed, anxious to speak with him.
    The man was placed gently on a makeshift bed of thatch. He had been beaten so badly that his face was indistinguishable. The rest of his body looked to have suffered the same fate, and from his woeful moans, his pain was obvious.
    Storm stopped Burke from going to the man’s side with a hand to his arm. “Let Janelle see to him. We need to talk.”
    He hesitated.
    “It’s important,” she insisted and tugged at his arm.
    “Have you eaten?” Burke asked, leaving the hut.
    She shook her head, amazed that his concern for her seemed neverending.
    “There’s fish at the campfire.”
    He took her arm as if he thought her weary and needing help, and walked with her to the campfire, where the smell of cooked fish filled her with joy, her stomach agreeing with a rumble.
    She was surprised that he hadn’t immediately demanded to know why she had taken him away from his brother.
    “Your stomach sounds anxious,” Burke said.
    Storm sat on the log. “It’s been almost a day since I ate.”
    Burke picked the fish clean of meat and gave her a handful. She accepted it gratefully.
    “Eat some,” he urged, “before you deliver the news about my brother.”
    She took a small bite, but not wanting to delay the inevitable, she said, “The man we freed isn’t your brother.”
    “How do you know this?”
    That he hoped she was wrong was evident. “Once he knew we neared camp he admitted his name was Peter, not Cullen.”
    Burke nodded knowingly. “Cullen had a chance for freedom, he feared Peter would not.”
    “Exactly,” Storm said. “Peter