Captive Heart Read Online Free PDF

silence his confessions. “Scars matter so little to me, and you will recover your strength in time. If you do not want me, please speak the truth now, but do not wait for me to refuse you, for I will not do it.”
    Mylan stepped back, confused by the ready acceptance by the lovely creature before him. Her hair shimmered in the sunlight with a sparkle that nearly blinded him, but her large green eyes were cool, her open appraisal of him as curious as a child’s. There was not the slightest trace of fear in her sweet expression, only a quiet anticipation, not the revulsion he’d come to expect from a woman. Why was she so different, her perceptions so acute? “How old are you, Olgrethe?”
    Celiese smiled shyly. “I am seventeen. I hope you will not think that too advanced an age for your bride.”
    Mylan’s troubled expression broke into an easy grin as he laughed at her teasing. Her unexpected humor amused him greatly, and his spirits rose to match hers; “I thought you would be spoiled, Olgrethe, the only daughter of a man I’ve been taught all my life to despise. I thought you would be eager for any excuse to avoid our marriage, for I was certain you would hate me, if not for who I am, then for what I have become.”
    “And what is that, Mylan? You will have to explain what you mean, for I see only a man, and a most handsome and brave one.” Celiese was amazed at how simple a matter it was for her to converse with him. She had hoped only to find a place in which to live as a free woman, a refuge from the lusts of Raktor and his brutish sons, a home she had been willing to share with any man. But the one who stood so proudly before her was not only attractive, but pleasant and bright. Far too bright, she realized with sudden sorrow, for the deception she would have to attempt later that night. With considerable effort she forced that frightening prospect from her mind and looked up at him, her head tilted at the saucy angle that was Olgrethe’s favorite pose. “Well, will you not respond? Have you decided to send me home or make me your wife?”
    Mylan frowned thoughtfully, then leaned back against the chair he’d used for support and folded his well muscled arms over his bare chest. “I am still considering the matter. Turn around so I might have a better look at you.” He regarded her critically, looking her up and down slowly, assessing her fair beauty with a practiced eye as she turned, then taking her small hand in his he sat down in the oversized chair and pulled her down across his lap.
    “Mylan!” Celiese was appalled by his impertinence but found her struggle to rise swiftly ended as his arms encircled her waist with the force of steel bonds. “Is this your answer?” Her lips were a few scant inches from his as she spoke, and, although she tried to lift her gaze to his, she found the curve of his enchanting grin irresistible. When he raised his hand to the nape of her neck to draw her near she made no effort to fight him but relaxed in his arms, a willing prisoner in his strong embrace as his mouth brushed hers with the lightest of touches before lingering in a far more demanding kiss. She had not expected such tenderness from a Viking and drew back, her cheeks flooding with color as she did so.
    Mylan chuckled as her pretty blush deepened, “I think your beauty surpasses even Raktor’s boasts, for your face and figure are perfection, and you seem to possess wisdom far beyond your years, Olgrethe, but has no one taught you how a man likes to be kissed?”
    Celiese looked away. She hoped he was teasing her, but the images that flooded her mind were horrible indeed, and she had no intention of telling him just how much she’d been taught nor how brutal the lessons had been. Raktor had never permitted any man to be alone with Olgrethe, nor had that young woman ever longed to be kissed, and, taking that knowledge as her cue, she replied softly, “Raktor is very strict, Mylan, he would not allow