The Barbarian Read Online Free PDF Page A

required before you grabbed me by the
ankles?" the upside down wench demanded.
    "Why should
it?" he muttered. That river had broken its banks once before and swept
the old road away with it. She was a lucky wench that he had reached her when
he did. There had been no time for polite conversation. "The situation was
one of urgency."
    "Still,
common courtesy would not have gone amiss."
    "Next time
your life is in danger, I'll stop and discuss the weather first." The
sensations throbbing inside his thigh muscle, where her full breasts pushed
into his leg, multiplied as the horse raced toward a ditch.
    "I need my
maid," she shouted above the thundering hooves. "She is very young
and sheltered. If any harm comes to her you'll be to blame."
    His mount soared
into the air, clearing the ditch with ease, despite the extra burden he
carried. Stryker gave a grunt of satisfaction as they came down again with a
jolt and raced onward, hooves flinging up clods of earth in all directions.
    "Your maid is
safe with my men," he assured her, slightly breathless, cold wind sucking
the air out of his lungs.
    "She had
better be!"
    He wanted to
believe he misheard. His wife-to-be had not dared say that. Surely she had not
spoken to him as if he were a servant. She must be suffering shock.
    They entered another
border of naked, winter-ravaged trees. When Stryker slowed his horse to
maneuver through the low arches of knotted limbs, his bride tried sitting
upright and the fur-lined hood of her cape fell back, revealing long, thick
dark chestnut hair, tied in braids. He quickly pressed her down again over his
lap, his hand in the small of her back. Once more he felt the promising lure of
that soft curve where it lead to her rounded arse, barely covered by a rumpled
woolen gown and shift. The warmth of that restless body teased his palm just
enough to shorten his breath and speed the awakened hammer of desire beating in
his temple. Fortunately they were now in sight of his manor.
    "I'm
dizzy!" she complained.
    "Nearly
there. Be still." He could barely get the words out. Perhaps it had been
too long for him since his last swiving, in which case he must amend that very
soon. Ducking as they passed under a series of low branches, he caught the
sweet scent of her hair, which had begun to fall loose from the braids. She was
still fighting to sit up as he bent over her, and when her brow briefly
contacted with his cheek, a lock of soft hair brushed his lips like a kiss. His
pulse stalled. He straightened up so quickly that he hit his head on a branch
and was almost knocked out of the saddle.
    "How much
further?" she demanded. "Just when I thought things could not get any
worse, here I am, battered and bruised, tossed about without a solitary concern
for my well being and thrown over a great, sweating, stinking beast."
    "We just came
from a successful day's hunt, of course my horse sweats and stinks."
    She twisted her
neck to look up at him. "I refer not to your horse."
    Oh, there was no
mistaking her tone this time, no excusing it on shock. "Woman," he
roared, "cease your rattling or I'll fill that mouth with something!"
    "And I'll
bite it off. Arrogant wretch!" To prove her point she sank her teeth into
his thigh. Even through hide breeches, he felt the sharp pinch and knew she'd
left a mark.
    Stryker was
appalled, enraged. Even worse, he heard laughter behind them and knew his
friend, Ifyr, was close enough to see and hear it all. If Stryker did not act
at once, this woman could severely dent his pride and his reputation. Clearly
his wife thought to get the upper hand in their marriage. In which case she
needed a lesson.
    He must begin as
he meant to go on. Couldn't let his people witness her get away with this bold
behavior.
    Cantering through
the gates of his manor, Stryker assessed the possibilities hastily and his gaze
settled on a small, thatched hut in the center of the yard. This is where any
man accused of a crime was kept until his innocence—or