Purebred Read Online Free PDF

the
Duc de Bressange, and gifted to me on my marriage." Really she
should have pushed him aside and ridden away, but pride was a
terrible sin — one of her worst.
    "A purebred for another purebred," he
muttered thoughtfully. While moving his hand from the horse's neck,
he touched her knee. Briefly. It might have been a mistake, but
with the jump of her pulse she knew it was intentional. "And you
too must be bred, my lady."
    She kept her lips pressed tight, but a
shiver of part fear, part anticipation raced through her
veins.
    "Bred by your husband's hired
barbarian bastard."
    Oh, dear god no. No . Her pulse had raced
ahead of her, leaving her body frozen stiff, her mind stalled. She
knew how a doe must feel when it spied hunters in the forest,
aiming their arrows to bring her down.
    His smile widened. "Yes,
all those things you said of me are true. All but one, my Lady
Isobel." He leaned closer and whispered, "Don't think there's
anything about me that will ever be tamed."
    She kicked out with her foot. He
stepped aside smartly, and she steered her horse forward at a fast
trot, anxious to leave him behind. The guards and Jeanne followed
her, the horses' hooves clattering over the stones of the yard.
Isobel put her shocked face into the wind and did not look
back.
     
    * * * *
     
    Alonso hadn't planned to mention it to
her, but the superior expression on her face when she looked down
at him from the back of her horse prompted him into it. That woman
needed a lesson. Several lessons.
    First, she must learn that
she did need him.
Apparently she thought she would be safe riding outside the gates
of the manor with her little maid and two guards. If Alonso was her
husband that would be out of the question, but then the Baron
seemed to take his husbandly role with a grain of salt. He did not
even bother correcting her sharp tongue, so why would he care if
she went out riding with only two lackadaisical guards? Some men
didn't know how to handle wives, he mused. Or they were too lazy to
bother.
    Mounting his horse quickly— not even
waiting for a saddle—he rode after the small group. He kept enough
distance that they wouldn't hear him and then, when he knew they
were heading for the forest, he took his own short cut.
    The trees were about to turn color,
some already showing an edging of gilt and copper. On that day
there was enough wind to rustle the crisping leaves and it covered
the sound of his horse moving over the dry bracken. Within half an
hour he had the riders in his sights again through the trees and,
as he suspected, they had stopped at the lake to let their horses
drink. Alonso waited until the two women had dismounted and the
guards were talking—one with his back turned—then he set his horse
forward at a sharp gallop.
    The Baron's two guards were too slow
to react with any effect. Clearly they were so familiar with Lady
Isobel's routine that they had grown complacent and never expected
a challenge. Like most of the Baron's men they were fat and out of
fighting condition, which was why he had called upon mercenaries
like Alonso to keep his castellany safe.
    He swung his club, neatly knocking one
man from the saddle. The other guard's horse reared up and his
portly form lost balance until he slipped back over the rump,
cursing wildly and swinging his sword in a futile arc.
    Alonso swooped down on Lady Isobel,
grabbed her around the waist, and hoisted her up onto his own
horse.
     
    * * * *
     
    "Put me down! You great stupid oaf!
You will pay for this."
    "I had to prove my point, Lady
Isobel."
    His arm was like steel wrapped around
her, holding her on his horse as they galloped through the forest
at seemingly reckless speed. Isobel thought they would surely crash
into a tree and be killed. She closed her eyes and felt branches
tug at her gown, scratch her legs, and pull on her wimple. Still he
rode on, his body hard against hers, one of his thick thighs tense
under her bottom.
    "I would say your damn point