Innocence Enslaved Read Online Free PDF Page B

if he buys this fair dove as well.” The air practically rumbled as the men gave voice to their appreciation.
    “Who’ll say one thousand as an opener?”
    Her heart stopped as a bid of five hundred rose above the cheers and claps.
    “My good man, I’d give a thousand for her myself before letting her go at such a steal,” the auctioneer scolded. The slaver’s hand settled on the top of her head as he began stroking her hair. The thought of belonging to him made Emilia shudder in revulsion as she tamped down the bitter gorge rising in her throat. “Who will up the price to a more respectable bid for one such as this?”
    “One thousand,” came a calm, smooth voice.
    “Ah, thank you, kind sir. I appreciate a man with an eye for beauty.”
    At his feet, she stiffened, searching from beneath her lashes for the unknown man he’d called kind. Could it be true? Was it possible that a man with compassion, and perhaps morals and integrity, one not inclined to debauchery, existed in Lancore? Oh, but if it were so, what would he be doing bidding on a pleasure slave?
    Still, her only hope was that she would come into the hands of someone kind, who might have consideration of her innocence, and give her time to adjust before taking her virginity. She would promise to be obedient and willing if he would spare her some time to come to terms with the idea. Please , she begged silently as she scanned the crowd, have enough resources to save me.
    “Fifteen hundred!” barked a hard, rough voice. Her head turned, searching. She hadn’t heard this man before, not in the earlier bidding or amongst the others in the crowd.
    “At last, a respectable sum for a virgin! Do I hear more?”
    “Eighteen hundred,” the kind man bid.
    “Two thousand!” came the booming, thunderous reply. A chill ran down her spine. Clearly, the man was trying to intimidate his opponent. While she didn’t know if it was having an effect on the other bidder, he was doing a fine job of petrifying her.
    “Twenty-five hundred,” came the unwavering reply.
    A deep growl, like that of an angry boar, erupted from the other bidder as he came into view. The man was huge, with a thick neck, brawny arms, and a barrel chest, and he bodily moved others out of his way while advancing toward the stage, his jerky, volatile movements reflecting his annoyance. She cringed, cowering against the auctioneer’s legs. Terrified that he would actually purchase her, she flinched when he yelled, “Twenty-seven hundred!”
    His hands were clenched into ham-like fists. His size and strength convinced her that he could easily rip her apart. Hopelessly, she prayed for a thunderbolt to strike him down out of the clear blue sky as a silent tension hung in the air.
    “What is one more bid, my friend? Surely you don’t wish to go home empty-handed.” The auctioneer had to be addressing the man he’d called kind.
    Please, sir , she pleaded as she searched for him in the vast crowd.
    “You keep out of it, rattle-tongue,” the behemoth growled, but the auctioneer seemed unfazed.
    “Surely another bid is warranted for such a prize.”
    Her rescuer, in her mind at least, called out another bid.
    “Three thousand!”
    She noticed a hint of worry in his voice and hoped that his opponent had not. If that monster got his hands on her, she would surely be dead before the end of the first night.
    Whispers rippled through the crowd while she held her breath, staring at the big man who stood alone, the others having long since given him a wide berth. She saw his giant fists open and close at his sides, the cords in his neck bulging. He was breathing hard, practically snorting like an enraged bull, when he thundered, “Take her!” He shot an angry glare at someone on the other side of the gathering before he thrust his way out of the crowd, clearly irate for being defeated.
    Slumping forward and lightheaded with relief that the fearsome ogre had walked away, she took the first deep