Rogue's Hostage Read Online Free PDF Page B

laughed, then closed it. Let them think she was brave. It might keep her alive. The Frenchman’s words at the cabin came back to her. I can be persuaded to act as your protector. Her heart beat faster, and she wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue.
    "Please," she whispered. "Don’t let them hurt me. Let me stay by you tonight."
    For a moment his expression was unguarded. In that instant she knew he wanted her. She wrenched her gaze away, and a wave of apprehension swept over her as she realized what she’d just said. Fear raced through her. Who would protect her from him?
    When she glanced at him again, his face was impassive, and she wondered if she had imagined that fleeting gleam of lust.
    "Very well, I will take care of you. But first, I have one condition."
    Mara steeled herself for his next words, but his request startled her.
    "I wish to hear you call me by my given name. Jacques."
    She moistened her lips again, then whispered his name.
    His jaw tightened as he stared at her mouth, but he said nothing.
    "Is something wrong?" she asked.
    A wry smile curled his lips. "No, madame." He stood and held out a hand to her. "Come sit by the fire."
    Hesitantly she rose, but then slipped on the mossy rocks. Before she fell, he caught her around the waist, lifting her against his body, her breasts pressed to his chest. She panicked and struggled to free herself.
    "Stop it," he ordered. "I won’t hurt you."
    She froze, then lifted her gaze to his. His eyes were the smoky gray of a foggy morning. The tension between them increased with disturbing intensity. He held her for a few more seconds, then, with an oath, let her go and stepped back. Scowling, he turned and strode to the fire.
    Mara took a deep breath as she watched him stalk off. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that he desired her. It was evident in his voice, his gaze, his touch. And having felt the strength in his arms, she knew that he could take whatever he wanted.
    She trembled, understanding the fear of a small animal caught in a snare, uninjured yet unable to break free, uncertain of the future, and filled with dread. She had to escape, but not tonight, while four-legged predators roamed the dark woods.
    Besides, she must set her captors’ minds at ease. She must pretend to be submissive.
    Mara limped over to the fire, her thoughts a crazy mixture of hope and fear. Corbeau offered her a share of his supper—parched corn meal mixed with water. She ate the bland food, forcing it down, but she had no appetite. She ate to survive, her stomach churning in dread.
    Afterwards, Corbeau spread a blanket at one end of the shelter. When Mara pulled her blanket out of her pack he took it from her. "We can lie on one and use the other for a cover."
    "But," she protested. "Surely there is no need…"
    "Would you rather be tied to a pole?"
    Unable to bear the thought of being tethered like an animal, Mara gave in. "No," she said shortly.
    She crawled into the lean-to, sat on the edge of the blanket and watched him walk back to the fire. Her stays were digging painfully into her ribs. Certain no one was watching, she removed her bodice and put it in the pouch, which became her pillow. She lay on her side, facing outward, too nervous to sleep.
    She listened to the three men speaking quietly as they sat and smoked, but she was too exhausted to pay attention to their words. Fog seeped through the forest, silhouetting the trees against the soft gray mist. She lay listening to the rustling of the small creatures of the night and the occasional hoot of an owl. The screech of a mountain lion echoed from afar, making her shiver with fright.
    When Corbeau lay down next to her, she tensed at the nearness of his large, strong body. The smell of tobacco and wood smoke mingled with his musky, male scent, and she had a sudden urge to burrow closer to his warmth, as she had snuggled next to Emile for five years. In that moment she hated herself for her weakness, her fears.
    She should