The Warrior's Winter Bride. Denise LynnЧитать онлайн книгу.
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‘Lynn captivates readers with a rich, intense romance.’
—RT Book Reviews on PREGNANT BY THE WARRIOR
‘Lynn weaves an intricate tapestry full of royal intrigue, slavery and revenge.’
—RT Book Reviews on BEDDED BY THE WARRIOR
‘Lynn carries on her tradition of producing love stories full of suspense, romantic characters, humour and a can’t-wait-to-read-it happy ending.’
—RT Book Reviews on FALCON’S HEART
‘Dunstan is no friend of Warehaven.’
She explained what he already knew.
‘Why would you deliver me to him?’
Her tone rose with each word.
He heard her inhale sharply before asking, ‘Who are you?’
He tightened his hold round her, lifted her feet from the ground and resumed their walk towards the beach. He was certain from the tightness of her voice that she’d already guessed the answer.
Dipping his head, so he could whisper into her ear, he responded, ‘Who am I?’ He brushed his lips along the delicate curve of her ear. ‘Why, fair maiden of Warehaven, I am Richard of Dunstan.’
She trembled against him. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Glenforde must pay for his crimes.’ Richard hardened his voice. ‘And you, as his intended bride, will ensure he does.’
Award-winning author DENISE LYNN lives in the USA with her husband, son and numerous four-legged ‘kids’. Between the pages of romance novels she has travelled to lands and times filled with brave knights, courageous ladies and never-ending love. Now she can share with others her dream of telling tales of adventure and romance. You can write to her at PO Box 17, Monclova, OH 43542, USA, or visit her website: www.denise-lynn.com
The Warrior’s
Winter Bride
Denise Lynn
For Mom, with love.
Contents
Warehaven Keep—autumn 1145
Men were no better than toads, hopping mindlessly one way and then the next without warning. Before, she’d only wondered about it, but now she knew for certain it was true.
The cool night air did little to soothe her raging anger. Isabella of Warehaven shouldered her way through the throng of people crowded in her father’s bailey. She needed some time alone before returning to the celebration about to take place inside the keep.
Her betrothal and upcoming marriage to Wade of Glenforde had been painstakingly planned for months. Each detail had been overseen with the utmost of care. Every line of the agreement had been scrutinised with an eye to the future—her future.
And in a few moments’ time she would toss all of her father’s planning into the fire. Her parents would be so upset with her and she hated the idea of disappointing them, but she just couldn’t, she wouldn’t marry Glenforde. He could wed the whore she’d seen him kissing while he pulled the giggling strumpet into a private alcove.
Thankfully, her mother and father had given her, and her younger sister, Beatrice, the rare