Viking Warrior Rebel Read Online Free PDF

folded on a chair, a leather jacket draped across its back. In one of the dresser drawers, he found a supply of clean underwear in bold satin colors, some clean T-shirts, and a colorful silk scarf. The other drawers were empty. The lady traveled light, but even this small bundle of clothes needed a bag. She hadn’t had one with her at the restaurant, not even a purse, so what had she packed in? He searched the room again, but couldn’t find any luggage anywhere, not even under the bed.
    Returning to the dresser, he pawed through her silky bras and panties and tried not to feel like a pervert when the smooth silk running through his fingers evoked yet another hot memory of his one night with Astrid. She’d worn a hot-pink bra and a matching minuscule thong that had burned images permanently into his mind. He swallowed and adjusted his pants when the crotch started to feel uncomfortably tight.
    Between the T-shirts, he felt a hard lump and pulled out a Leatherman multitool. Unfolded, the mini pliers fit comfortably in his hand. He studied its many Swiss Army–like accessories one by one and noticed small specks of white paint on one of the flat screwdriver heads.
    The hotel room had several vent covers, but they were fairly small and fastened with Phillips-head screws. Luke went into the bathroom and studied the large vent covering the extractor fan. All six screws were of the flat-head kind. He dragged in a chair, quickly removed the cover, and then pulled out a duffel bag hidden inside the ceiling space.
    Astrid did travel with luggage—filled with a sword, several daggers, and two Glock 22s. He copied down the guns’ serial numbers and replaced the bag and the multitool where he’d found them. Figuring out what Astrid was doing in Denver moved to the top of his to-do list. What kind of business trip required a small personal armory?

Chapter 3
    Astrid paced the office of Dr. Rosen, Scott’s personal physician. She briefly paused by the huge picture window and admired the majestic view of the Rocky Mountains. The exclusive clinic was only two hours’ drive from Denver but well hidden to protect its famous and well-connected clientele from paparazzi and the media. The only way to reach it was on back roads or by helicopter. She checked her watch. She’d been waiting for fifteen minutes already and really wanted to get back on the road and head for Washington.
    The more miles she put between herself and Luke Holden, the better. Her traitorous body had imagined all kinds of delightful activities when he’d suggested they spend the night together. She’d had to give her hormones a stern talking-to, and even then they didn’t settle down. Knowing he was spending the night somewhere in the same hotel had made rest hard. She stifled a yawn. Luke was trouble. He saw too much.
    The door opened behind her and she turned to watch Dr. Rosen enter, wearing a white lab coat with Rosen MD embroidered on the breast pocket. He pushed his rimless glasses higher on his nose and approached her with a cheerful smile. “I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.” He gestured to one of the chairs facing the desk in front of the window, and Astrid sat down while the doctor situated himself in his office chair. “I understand you’re here to pick up Scott Driscoll?”
    Astrid nodded. Naya had kept her brother’s first name on the patient records, but the last name was fake.
    Dr. Rosen picked up a folder from his desk and flipped through it. “You must have gotten your signals crossed somehow.” He peered at her through his glasses. “Scott checked himself out yesterday.”
    â€œI’m sorry, what?” Astrid leaned forward in the chair. She’d been told Scott was better, but not yet completely recovered. The doctor looked down at his folder again. “He left our clinic yesterday.”
    â€œHow’s that possible?” This must be some kind