The Snow Bride: The Virgin's Choice / Snowbound Seduction / The Santorini Bride. Jennie LucasЧитать онлайн книгу.
not afraid of a little snow.”
“Such bravery.” The stranger’s black eyes traced over her body, burning her wherever they touched. “And yet you know why I’ve come.”
“Yes, of course,” she said, bewildered.
“But you do not run away?”
She blinked, even as her feet inched backward of their own volition, and said, “Why would I run?”
His black eyes searched hers as if sifting through her soul. “You actually take responsibility for your crime?”
His face was too brutal, his body too muscular to be handsome. But it was hard to get a good look at his face. In the shadows of the moonlit night, he was like a vampire sucking up every bit of light despite the illumination from the snow. And his darkness was more than the black of his hair, his eyes and his long coat. There was something in his posture that frightened her. A danger. A threat.
And yet she forced herself to hold still. She glanced back at the castle to reassure herself. Her husband and family were near. She had no reason to be afraid. She was so overwrought she was imagining things!
“By ‘crime’ do you mean the wedding?” she replied lightly. “It was perhaps a bit overdone but that’s hardly a crime.”
But the man didn’t even smile. She cleared her throat.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t joke. You must have traveled a long distance for our wedding, only to arrive an hour too late. That would make anyone upset.”
“Upset?” he ground out.
“I’ll get you some champagne inside,” she urged. Her feet started inching back again toward the castle. “Lars will be so happy to see you.”
The man barked a sudden laugh. “Is that another joke?”
Rose stopped. “Aren’t you one of his friends?”
The man drew closer to her.
“No,” he said. “I am not a friend.”
His body towered over hers without touching her, leaving her in shadow. She felt his physical strength like a threat.
And suddenly, she knew that her instincts had been right all along.
She had to flee for safety—now.
“Excuse me,” she choked out, stumbling back. “My husband’s waiting for me. Hundreds of people—security guards, policemen—are waiting for our first dance as a married couple….”
The man’s hand flew out to grab her upper arm over her translucent lace sleeve, gripping her tight, preventing her escape.
“Married?” he repeated in cold fury.
Why was he looking as if he might kill her for saying something so innocent and so obvious? “Yes, it’s our—You’re hur ting me!”
His hand had tightened, gripping painfully into her arm. His black eyes stared down at her with deep, fathomless rage as he slowly looked from her breasts, which were pushed up by the tight bodice, to the enormous diamond ring sparkling on her left hand.
Finally, his eyes met hers, and it was like a blast of fire as he said in a low voice, “You both deserve to burn in hell for what you’ve done.”
She gaped at him. “What? What are you talking about?”
With a brutal jerk, he pulled her so close to him that her wide tulle skirts whirled around his muscular legs.
“You know,” he said in a low, grim voice. “And you know why I’ve come.”
“I don’t!” she panted, struggling in his brutal grip. “Are you insane? Let me go!”
An icy breeze lifted her veil above her blond chignon, up into the air, swirling around them both in the dark frozen night. She felt the latent power and hostility emanating off the stranger’s strong body, and for a moment, she felt lost in a medieval nightmare of ice, fire and Vikings.
But this wasn’t a dream! He held her tight, crushing her fruitless struggles.
“You are a liar, just as I knew you’d be,” he hissed in her ear. She saw the ice crystals of their joined breath swirl like mist and smoke around them, before he pulled back to look down at her with hard eyes. “What I did not realize was that you would also be so beautiful.”
“You’ve…you’ve made some kind of mistake.” She licked her dry lips. His dark eyes fell to her mouth, tracing the movement of her tongue.
Her lips burned beneath his gaze, causing a scorching trail of fire to spread down her body, sizzling from her lips to her earlobes. To her breasts. To her core, coiling low in her belly.
“No mistake,” he said roughly, his grip tightening on her shoulders. “You’ve committed a crime. Now you will pay.”
“You’re drunk—or crazy!”
Kicking his shins, she wrenched away from his grasp. Desperately, she fled toward the bright, warm castle, with its music and free-flowing champagne. She ran for safety. Ran for her life. Toward her family and her new husband and the crowds of beautiful, laughing, celebrating Swedes.
But the stranger caught up with her. She felt his hands roughly grab her and she screamed.
With a savage growl, he seized her, lifting her up in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest as if she weighed nothing at all. Her white, translucent veil flew behind them as he carried her across the snowy garden.
“What are you doing? Stop!” she cried, kicking and struggling in his arms. “Let me go! Help! Someone help me!”
But no one came. No one could hear her screams inside the castle, over the noise of the orchestra.
Holding her, the man grimly waded through the snow toward the three black SUVs parked in the dark courtyard. She heard the three engines start. She screamed and twisted against him, fighting with all her strength, but her abductor barely seemed to notice.
And why should he? What was Rose’s strength, compared to his?
He pushed her inside the back door of the last SUV, then slid in beside her, closing the door behind them.
“Go,” he said.
The driver stomped on the gas, scattering rocks and gravel as the back tires slid on a patch of ice. The other two cars roared ahead of them, as they sped into the dark forested mountains of the countryside.
The dark stranger released Rose’s wrist, glowering down at her.
Rubbing her wrist, she turned to look through the back window in time to see the castle disappear behind her. Her family, her new husband, everything that was rational and civilized and known—gone.
With a choked gasp, Rose looked at the madman beside her, the dark stranger who’d just stolen her away from everyone she loved. “You kidnapped me,” she whispered. “From my own wedding reception.”
The man stared back at her with dead eyes. His jaw clenched.
She moved away from him to the edge of her seat, her body pressing against the far door, her white tulle skirts spread all around her. “What do you want with me? Why have you taken me?”
The man’s lips curved into a sinister smile as he leaned against the seat. His dark eyes bored into her soul with malevolence and dislike.
Then he reached for her. For a single moment she thought he meant to strike her, so she flinched, closing her eyes. Instead, she felt the tiara and veil ripped from her hair.
Her eyes flew open and she saw his window rolling down as he gripped her diamond tiara and the white gauzy veil in one hand.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
He