The Reluctant Amazon (Alliance of the Amazons) Read Free

resisted when he came for
them. Some even went on the attack, which was why, wedding or no wedding, he
came prepared to carry her away. Artair had been poised to step in, his mouth
already open when her would-be groom brought the ceremony to an abrupt halt.
    Rebecca Massee couldn’t marry. It simply wasn’t possible.
    Yet she’d given in so easily, as if knowing he would take her
to her destiny. They reached the church doors before Artair allowed himself to
accept her reaction.
    His own response took him by surprise. He wanted her. Plain and
simple. He’d never reacted that way to an Amazon before. She was exquisite.
Blonde. Shapely. And powerful—more than he’d anticipated if her first earthquake
served as any indication.
    He buried his unwanted desire deep inside, because if she knew
of it, she wouldn’t respect his role in her new world.
    Rebecca could never know how he felt.
    “Are you coming?” she asked over her shoulder.
    “Aye, lass. Aye.” He swept past her, grabbed her hand and
walked out of the church.

Chapter Two
    “Where are we going?” Rebecca stumbled along, more
behind Artair than beside him as they walked out of the sanctuary.
    He pulled his sword and shoved the blade through the door
handles, effectively keeping anyone in the church from following. Before she
could ask why it was necessary, he grabbed her hand, hurried her down the
concrete stairs and across the lawn toward the street. Her skirts tangled
between her legs and her high heels kept sinking in the soft ground, making it
next to impossible to keep pace with his long strides.
    “There.” He nodded toward a beat-up blue cargo van parked just
across the street. A woman with a red ponytail leaned out of the driver’s-side
window and gestured for them to hurry.
    Sanity came back to Rebecca in a flood. What in the hell had
she been thinking to leave with this man? And who was that woman?
    “I’m not going anywhere with a couple of strangers.” She
planted her feet.
    “Lass, we don’t have the time to waste.”
    She shook her head. “I—I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have… I’m
not going with you.”
    God, what was wrong with her? In her anger-clouded mind, she’d
decided to go with this Artair guy because she’d wanted to walk out of the
church with her head held high. The gorgeous hunk of a Scotsman would probably
take her to some bar, they’d get drunk, she would unwrap that kilt as though she
was opening a gift box from Tiffany’s, and then nature would take its
course.
    She wasn’t planning on a threesome, and she sure as shit wasn’t
going anywhere with a couple of wackos in a dilapidated van—especially when one
of the wackos was as big as Hulk Hogan. She tried to pull her hand away from his
grasp.
    He wouldn’t let her go. “Becca, we must be away. You’re in
danger.”
    Artair started to drag her, and she stumbled as one of her
shoes came off, remaining behind, the spiked heel stuck in the thick grass.
    “C’mon, Celt!” the redheaded woman shouted in a deep, Lauren
Bacall voice as she continued to urge them toward the van with her frantic
hands. “The quake! They’re probably tracking her now! I’m not waiting around for
the revenants to show up. She’ll be dead if we don’t move!”
    There was something wrong. Something very wrong. Glancing back
at the church, Rebecca could see the front doors shaking as though someone was
trying to get out. Looking up and down the street, she realized it was deserted.
Where was the limo driver? Where was the damn photographer?
    She succeeded in wrenching her hand out of the tenacious
Scotsman’s grip as he continued to march toward the van. She sat down hard on
the sidewalk. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Touch me again and I’ll scream.”
Digging through the tangle of skirts, she tugged off her other shoe and threw it
at him. He easily sidestepped the high-heeled missile.
    Artair folded his arms over his broad chest. Those green eyes
that had been