Free Lord of Vengeance by Adrian Lara

impact.
    She felt Rutledge's powerful thighs grip the destrier as he urged it on along a mucky riverbed. All the while his heart thundered at her back, his breath coming fast and hot against her ear. He seemed to take the pounding in stride, while Raina could only pray for it to end before she was jostled to her death.
    Though she imagined his backside must ache as sorely as hers, it wasn't until sometime later, when the rosy hues of dawn began to seep through the pines, that Rutledge eased up on his mount. He reined in, slowing the snorting beast to a trot. Frothy sweat coated the destrier's neck and shoulders, its sides heaved with labored breaths. The saddle creaked as Rutledge leaned into her back and dismounted, then pulled her into his arms and set her on the ground.
    Having been off her feet for so long, Raina could now scarcely feel them beneath her. At once her calves began to tingle in the most peculiar way, and her knees started to buckle. To her dismay and outrage, Rutledge reached out to steady her, his large hands circling her upper arms as if they were no more than slender twigs.
    Then he released her and drew a small blade from his baldric.
    Raina's shriek was only a muffled grunt behind her gag as she jumped backward and fell on her rump. Her skirt breezed up over her knees when she landed, but she did naught to cover her bare legs, her mind preoccupied with the weapon Rutledge brandished at her.
    He glanced at the dagger in his hand, then chuckled. “Think you I would drag you all this way only to slit your throat here in this glade?” His expression grew serious. “Come hither, girl.” He held his hand out to her, palm up. “We haven't got all day, milady. Do you wish to be free of your bindings or nay?”
    Tentatively, and half expecting him to lob off her hands at the wrists, Raina reached out to him, turning her face away lest she witness their loss. With a deft upward flick of his blade, Rutledge sliced through the linen ties, and they fell limp to the forest floor. Blood immediately raced to her hands, creating a dull throb of pain.
    “As long as you obey me,” he said, hunkering down to crouch at her feet, “you have no need to fear me.”
    His promise more resembled a warning, she thought, delivered as it was with his eyes narrowed and the knife pointed toward her face.
    Raina's wary gaze followed the blade as one strong hand circled her ankle and he cut the bindings loose. Though the ties had fallen away, his grasp about her leg lingered, remarkably warm and unsettling, until he glanced up and found her staring at him, wide-eyed. Seemingly unable to mask his distaste for her, he released her ankle with a black scowl, then tossed her skirt over her knees in what appeared a hasty effort to hide her legs from his view.
    He stood, holding his hand out to her with a look of impatience in his eyes. Raina accepted and he helped her to her feet, holding her close for the moment it took until her balance was righted.
    Her hands could barely close about his forearms, and when her eyes met his, she saw in them a wicked gleam--like that of a hungry wolf. At once, she backed out of his strange embrace, balling her fists in her skirts and wondering how far she could get on foot.
    “Do not think to flee, milady,” he said as if able to read her thoughts. “You'll not get far before I catch you, and should I not, there are many others lurking in these woods who would prove to be far more worrisome to your well-being.”
    With that, he moved forward, reaching around her head to cut away the linen gag. Before she knew what was happening, her face was in his chest and her nose filled with his scent. An arousing muskiness mingled with the tang of his chain mail and the faint smell of leather, creating an indelible stamp in her mind that would forever be him.
    Raina stretched her jaw, rubbing at her chafed, raw lips as Rutledge sheathed his dagger. “W-where are you taking me?” she croaked on a dry