His black eyes narrowed, their look as sharp as the winter wind. She dropped her gaze and stared at her bare legs, starkly outlined against the hay. Her skirts had bunched about her thighs. Her face aflame, she tugged at her gown and scrambled to her feet. Ignoring the offer of his outstretched hand, she jumped from the cart and stood her ground on wobbly legs. But she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye again. Dread filled her, and she labored to draw a breath. Three times she’d tried to escape, and three times he’d stopped her. Something told her she wouldn’t get another chance. Raul kicked free of his stirrup and leaned down, offering his hand again. “Put your foot in the stirrup and mount behind me. I’ll take you back.” Though his words were mild, she understood the determination behind them. She studied his long, brown fingers, thinking ’twas odd he didn’t dismount and place her on the horse. Perchance he didn’t want to force her. Alas, she had little choice but to obey.
What do You think about The Princess And The Templar?
