"Wolf Warrior - 03 - A Viking's Vow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Monet Rae)

she fought the bindings, the tighter they became. The man arose from his bench, showing

Sable his great height. Towering above her, he knelt at her side and reached for her wrist.

УRelease my wolf,Ф she demanded, jerking away from his hand.

УI think not, my lady. That animal,Ф he nodded at Midnight, Уwould kill me first
before rescuing you. And right now,Ф he shifted to her other hand, УI am the only person
who can rescue you from harm.Ф

His voice was strangely accented, a unique mixture of her native Gaelic tongue and
another origin she couldnТt identify. To her dismay, Sable found the combination sexy.
Her nipples peaked, and she grunted, closing her eyes. Why did this man have such an
effect on her?

She opened her eyes when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist. His hand was so
large, his fingers overlapped on her wrist. With a twist, he released some of the pressure
from the rope.

УI will not harm you. Please follow my instructions. You are bound for your own
protection. If I did not do this, the others would kill you. This is not my Clan. If I stray
from their laws, your life will be forfeit. I am here at their mercy, with only three of my
men.Ф His face hardened. УTwo men now. The other was killed by your warriors.Ф

Sable strove to understand what he was saying, trying to ignore the spiking
sensations his hand produced when he loosened the binding on her other wrist. He bent
over her body and ran his thumb lightly over her cheek where he had punched her,
knocking her unconscious. The soreness made her wince. She was sure the skin had
darkened and split from the blow. His eyes softened, and he stroked gently.

УAnd if I release your wolf, he will be immediately murdered. The bounty on his pelt
is high. High enough to feed these menТs people for a fortnight.Ф His hands left her face
and reached for her ankles, where he began massaging the skin under the bindings. His
palms and fingers were callused, as if he worked with them or fought often. A mercenary,
mayhap? Yet his touch was gentle, almost reverent. Against her will, he stirred her.

УHave no doubt, my lady, I will protect you. A VikingТs vow is pledged with his
life.Ф

Sable tilted her head and studied him. He seemed intent on what he was saying,
leaning over her, watching his hands touch her skin with an expression on his face she
couldnТt read. She hid her arousal with anger.

УI need not your vow, Viking.Ф

Then a series of loud shouts outside of the tent drew her captorТs attention. He turned
his head, his brows furrowed. He looked like a fierce warrior focused on a fight to the
death.

УWho are you?Ф she asked. УWhy am I here? May I clothe myself?Ф