Captive Heart
Chapter One
The Borders
Summer 1136
HELENA WAS DRUNK. Drunker than she'd ever been in her life. Which was
why, no matter how she struggled against the cursed brute of a Norman oaf
wrestling her down the castle stairs, she couldn't break his hold on her.
"Cease, wench!" her captor hissed, stumbling on a step in the
dark. "Bloody hell, you'll get us both killed."
She would have grappled even harder then, but her right knee suddenly
turned to custard. Forsooth, if the Norman hadn't caught her against his
broad chest, she'd have tumbled headlong down the stone steps.
"Ballocks," he muttered against her ear, his massive arms
tightening around her like a vise.
She rolled her eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over her. If only her
muscles would cooperate, she thought, she could wrench loose and push the
bloody bastard down the stairs.
But she was well and truly drunk.
She'd not realized just how drunk until she'd found
herself in the bedchamber of her sister's bridegroom, Pagan Cameliard,
dagger in hand, ready to kill him.
If she ... read full excerpt from: Captive Heart ebook
