Heart of the Dragon Read Online Free PDF Page B

a step? She shivered. What was going on? This couldn’t be a dream or a hallucination. The sights and smells were too real, too frightening. Had she died? No, no. This certainly wasn’t heaven, and it was too cold to be hell.
    So what had happened?
    Before her mind could form an answer, a twig snapped.
    Grace’s chin whipped to the side, and she found herself staring up into cold, ice-blue eyes that swirled in startling precision with the mist. She sucked in an awed breath. The owner of those extraordinary eyes was the most ferociously masculine man she’d ever seen. A scar slashed from his left eyebrow all the way to his chin. His cheekbones were sharp, his jaw square. The only softness to his face was his gloriously lush mouth that somehow gave him the hypnotic beauty of a fallen angel.
    He stood in front of her, at least six foot five and pure, raw muscle. He was shirtless, his stomach cut into several perfect rows of strength. A six-pack, she mused, the first she’d ever seen in real life. Shards of mist fell around him like glittery drops of rain, leaving glistening beads of moisture on his bronzed, tattooed chest.
    Those tattoos were glowing, but more than that, they appeared alive. A fierce dragon spread crimson wings and seemed to be flying straight out of his skin, like a 3-D image come to dazzling life. The dragon’s tail dipped low, past the waist of the black leather pants. Around its body were black symbols that boasted curling slashes and jagged points. These stretched the length of his collarbone and around the biceps.
    The man himself proved more barbarous than his tattoos. He held a long, menacing sword.
    A wave of fear swept through her, but that didn’t stop her from staring. He was utterly savage. Fascinatingly sensual. He reminded her of a caged, wild animal. Ready to strike. Ready to consume. Danger radiated from his every pore, from the dark rim of his crystalline, predator eyes, to the blades strapped to his boots.
    With a flick of his wrist, he twirled the sword around his head.
    She inched backward. Surely he didn’t mean to use that thing. My God, he was lifting it higher as if he really did mean to…“Whoa, there.” She managed a shaky laugh. “Put that away before you hurt someone.” Namely me.
    He gave the lethal weapon another twirl, brandishing the sharp silver with strong, sure hands. His washboard abs rippled as he moved closer to her. Not a trace of emotion touched his expression. Not anger, fear, or mischievousness, offering her no clue as to why he felt the need to practice sword-slicing techniques in front of her.
    He stared at her. She stared back, and told herself it was because she was too afraid to look away.
    “I mean you no harm,” she managed to croak out. Time dragged when he didn’t respond.
    Before her horror-filled eyes, his sword began to slice downward, aimed straight for her throat. He was going to kill her! On instinct, she swiped her gun from the waist of her pants. Her breath snagged in her throat, burning like acid as she squeezed the trigger. Click, click, click.
    Nothing happened.
    Shit. Shit! The cylinder was empty. She must have used all of her bullets on her bastard of a guide. The gun shook in her hand, and terror wrapped around her with the chill of a wintry storm. Her gaze scanned the cave, searching for a way out. The mist was the only exit, but the savage warrior’s big, strong body now blocked it.
    “Please,” she whispered, not knowing what else to do or say.
    Either the man didn’t hear her, or he didn’t care what she said. His sharp, deadly sword continued to inch closer and closer to her neck.
    She squeezed her eyelids tightly shut.

CHAPTER THREE
    D ARIUS UTTERED a fierce curse and allowed his sword to pass just in front of the woman, never actually touching her. The action danced a delicate breeze through the red tendrils of her hair. The fact that he could see the actual color, a tempest of carmine that tumbled around her shoulders,