Hostage to Thunder Horse. Elle JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
They did not build men this rugged where she was from. Her brows furrowed. Or she had never met any men who had been built this sturdy. Her father had kept her surrounded by bodyguards and state officials everywhere she went in Trejikistan.
Maddox shifted her weight, pulling her closer against him. “Why were you snowmobiling out this far? Why not closer to Bismarck?”
“Cars cannot follow.” She yawned and settled back against him, her eyelids closing for the final count. “Unfortunately other snowmobiles can.”
“Isn’t that the idea with a snowmobile tour?” Maddox’s words were carried away on the wind as Katya slipped into a numbing sleep.
Maddox stopped the horse periodically to tuck Katya’s hands into his jacket and adjust her position to keep her from getting too cold in any one place. As he rode Bear through the storm, he went over Kat’s words again and again. They didn’t make any sense. Had she been out on a snowmobile tour and gotten lost? And what did she mean that cars couldn’t follow but snowmobiles could? Had she been running away from something? Was someone following her?
Maddox vowed to get to the bottom of it all when they finally made it back to the ranch. The one-hour ride from the canyon rim stretched into two as the storm settled in around them.
Sleet turned to snow, blowing in sideways, making it difficult for him to see more than two feet ahead of them. At one point, he took shelter in a ravine, the wind and sleet too harsh to be out on the open plains.
Too cold to remain exposed much longer, he ventured out again, hoping Bear knew the way. Maddox couldn’t make out any landmarks and the storm only grew worse, nearing blizzard conditions.
Maddox hoped the horse’s sense of direction led them back to the safety of the barn and ranch house and not farther away.
When he’d just about given up hope of getting there, the ranch house materialized through the whiteout conditions.
A dog barked, and a light blinked on next to the front door.
Through the driving snow, his brother and a ranch hand raced out into the blizzard toward the horse and the two people sagging in the saddle.
“Take the woman.” Maddox handed Katya down into waiting arms. He didn’t like others carrying her away, but the cold had taken more out of him than he originally thought.
He nudged the horse toward the barn. When they reached the barn door, he slipped from the saddle, his legs buckling. If not for the horse standing beside him, Maddox would have gone down in the snow.
Three Thunder Horse ranch hands emerged from the barn. One took the horse’s reins and the other two rushed to grab Maddox’s arms, draping them over their shoulders. His horse taken care of, Maddox let the men walk him up to the house. Once inside, he settled in a chair near the hearth where a fire blazed with enough warmth to thaw even the coldest parts of his body.
His mother, Amelia Thunder Horse, crouched on the floor in front of him and tugged his boots off his feet and the socks with it. “Thank the Lord you made it back. We were so worried. Who is the woman you brought with you? Where did you find her?”
Too tired to answer her, Maddox stood. “I’ll answer all your questions later. Where is she?”
“In the guest bedroom.”
Maddox stumbled down the hallway, shedding his jacket. When he reached the guestroom, Mrs. Janek, the housekeeper had just finished tucking Kat into the bed, the blankets drawn up to her chin. The older woman clucked her tongue. “She’s out. I hope she’ll be all right. Do you want me to call the doctor?”
“No, I’ll see to her.” Maddox stood next to the bed, staring down at the woman who’d called herself Kat. In his gut, he knew she hadn’t told him the entire truth. Despite that, he couldn’t help the overwhelming need to protect her that came over him.
Tired beyond endurance, he pulled the covers aside and lay in the bed beside her, gathering her into his arms as he’d done in the cave.
“Maddox?” His mother hovered in the door of the guestroom. “Is she okay?” She twisted her fingers together, her brows dipped in a worried frown. “Are you okay?
His eyelids weighed so heavily, he closed them. “I don’t know, Mother. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll ever be okay.”
Chapter Four
Lights glittered in the myriad chandeliers hanging from the vast ceiling. Too bright, all merging and blending together as she spun around the room, dancing from partner to partner. In a deep red ball gown, her hair piled high on her head and the world at her feet, Katya smiled, laughed and drank champagne from crystal goblets.
At one point her father danced her around the room. She was a little girl all over again, smiling up at him, proud of the man who ruled Trejikistan and made her feel loved and protected. So relieved to see him healthy and happy, she leaned against him and hugged him tight. “They told me you were dead.”
He just laughed and spun her into the arms of her brother, Dmitri, so tall and handsome, his wavy black hair so much like her own. His hands held her, gently guiding her through the steps of the intricate traditional dance of her ancestors. Hands of a doctor, a man meant to do good for the people, with a heart so big he could love every child in their country.
Katya smiled and laughed at him. “Where have you been, Dmitri? We have all been so worried.”
Before he could answer, the music ended. Dmitri tweaked her nose, just as he had since she’d been a small child, and disappeared into the crowd.
Standing alone in the crowd of guests, Katya looked around for her father and brother, suddenly sad, lonely and afraid. The orchestra played a waltz, the music so beautiful it melted Katya’s fears and sadness away. As she glanced around the ballroom, the sea of blurred faces parted and one man stood at the center. Unlike the other guests, this man didn’t wear a tuxedo or the uniform of a military man. He wore buckskins and moccasins, his long black hair hanging down around his shoulders, a wild gleam in his brown-black eyes.
As if drawn to him by a magical thread, Katya floated across the room toward him, the other guests fading away in a haze of gray. She could see his face so clearly, every line, angle and shadow etched in her memory. When the tall, swarthy Lakota native took her in his arms, he moved with the grace of a lion. At ease in his traditional dress, he waltzed her around the room, ignoring the whispers and comments made by statesmen and their wives, oblivious to the pomp and circumstance strictly adhered to in formal settings.
For once, Katya did not care that she might not fit in, that the man she danced with would draw censure from the exalted guests. Princes, princesses and leaders of foreign countries did not matter to her as long as she remained in the Lakota native’s arms. The world didn’t exist, except for the two of them.
As the music faded to a halt, the world crowded in. Her father gripped her arm and pulled her away from the Lakota.
“No!” she cried out. “I want to stay with him.”
But her father’s grip tightened and he led her out of the palace and into a waiting limousine where her brother sat, shaking his head.
“No! Let me stay. I want to dance,” Katya called out.
The limousine sped into the darkness, the lights from the palace fading with each passing mile. Katya looked back, her tears blurring her vision.
When she slumped into her seat beside her father and brother, she could not stop sobbing. “Why?”
Suddenly, the vehicle lurched, rammed by another car speeding along the highway. The limousine spun around and around, the motion flinging Katya around the inside. Out of control, it pitched over the edge of the road and tumbled into a ditch.
The door nearest her flew open and Katya fell into the ditch, facedown, her beautiful gown ruined in the mud.
She lay for a moment, wondering if she had died. But the