Heather Graham Read Free Page A

before she had time to scream out a warning. He stepped over the dead men, wrenching her along with him. Another, in front of him, fell at a thrust from his sword. The others fell away, watching them.
    He swiftly led her from the tavern, out into the night.
    He might have come without armor or companions, but he had brought Matthew, the swiftest of his four war stallions. He saw the gelding she had taken from Prince Edward’s stables, untethered it, and slapped its haunches, sending the animal on its way. Then he pushed her ahead of him, throwing her atop Matthew before leaping up behind her. She didn’t look back, yet she could hear the roar of anger as men grouped together again and found their courage to follow. Adrien kneed the animal. The horse began to race. She felt its majestic power beneath her and the hard-muscled chest of the man behind her, hot and vital. She closed her eyes, leaning against Matthew’s neck in the wild ride as branches and leaves slapped at her face and tore at her cloak.
    Matthew left the others far behind, and in time, Danielle became aware that they were out of danger, that Adrien raced on out of fury. He slowed when they came to the river, reining the stallion in at the bank. Both bridges were far downstream to the east.
    He nudged the horse forward.
    “It’s freezing!” she cried out in protest.
    “You might have killed us both—and you are afraid of a little water?”
    “I am afraid of nothing.”
    “You lie, for you had best be afraid of me tonight!”
    “If I would fear you at all, it would be because it appears you intend to drown us!”
    “Nay, be glad of the water. Perhaps my temper will be cooled.”
    They entered into the water. The cold was brutal.
    “Oh, you can just go straight to hell!” she snapped, praying that he attributed her shaking to the coldness of the water and not to the wild stirring within her.
    They reached the opposite bank and once again, he began to ride hard. The breeze whipped against her soaked clothing and she shivered anew. They rode on and on. Then she saw the stone walls of her own fortress of Aville.
    The gates opened as they neared them and rode quickly in, then closed behind them at an invisible command. Adrien rode the stallion straight to the door that led to the manor keep. In the darkness, a groom stirred when called to take Matthew’s reins and care for him.
    Danielle could scarcely walk when she was set upon the ground, but he was in a mood to grant no mercy as she tried to elude him, hurrying for the hall. He caught her arm, not allowing her a moment’s respite. She prayed to see a familiar face. Rem, Daylin, Monteine … anyone.
    But the hall was empty.
    “Upstairs, my lady!” he commanded, and she had little choice as he dragged her along to the master’s chambers.
    She found herself all but thrown into the room, spinning to stand at the foot of the carved, four-poster bed, while he paced before the massive fire that burned in the huge fireplace.
    She looked longingly to the door. She was shaking, for she knew what she had done. Treason against the King of England. And worse: she had betrayed him.
    “No servants will attend you here tonight, milady. When I discovered your foolish treachery, I saw to it that I could bring you back unseen. These are no longer games you play with me! You and your indignant protestations of innocence! This was treason, Danielle. The servants have been sent out for the night. Don’t look to others for help.”
    “I look nowhere for help!” she lied.
    “Nay, lady?”
    She refused to respond, but despite herself, she shivered wretchedly; her clothing felt like a glove of ice.
    Suddenly he ceased his pacing and stared at her, seeing her discomfort. “Get those things off!” he roared. But she lifted her chin stubbornly, fighting a threatening rush of tears. “They are causing you to shiver,” he snapped.
    “I shall shiver if I choose.”
    “Indeed, you shall shiver, but because I choose—I