Wildewood Revenge Read Online Free PDF

that headline would definitely knock the forgery off the top spot. “My Lady...Oh for goodness sake...,” she snorted. Did he think she was an idiot?
    He leaned toward her, the curl in his lip betraying some undeclared intent. “Where are you from?”
    She leaned back a fraction in response. “Tell me where I am and I’ll tell you where I’m from.”
    Miles smiled slowly, settled back, lifted his cup and took a sip. He watched her and waited until the pause became almost unbearable, before speaking again. “You are currently sheltering atop Ahlborett Crag. Where are you from?”
    “Why, here of course.”
    “Here?”
    “Well, not exactly here. I mean I don’t actually live in this...” she cast about looking for the right description “...cottage.”
    “What are you doing on my land?” he asked. He placed the cup on the beaten earth alongside him and wiped his mouth roughly with the back of his hand.
    She followed the progress of his hand with her eyes, glancing away when she met the curl of his lip. “This is not your land,” she muttered.
    “I beg to differ.” The curl turned into a smirk and ignited Grace’s indignation.
    “You can beg all you like,” she snapped. “This land belongs to me.”
    He stared at her then, with new interest. “To you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Perhaps you should tell me who you really are?”
    “I’ve told you who I am.”
    He narrowed his eyes. “You try my patience, Mademoiselle. Tell me who you are and why you believe you hold title to the lands of Wildewood ?”
    “Oh please.” She shook her head and stifled a smirk. “I try your patience. This is a joke right? The lands of Wildewood , I’ve never heard such twaddle, and I’ve never heard of Wildewood . I’ve lived here all my life. This land from the river to the crag and all the forest in between belongs to Kirk Knowe ...and Kirk Knowe belongs to me.” She stuck out her chin defiantly and foolishly ignored the red flag in his expression.
    With surprising speed he whipped out his arm, caught her slender throat in his calloused hand and squeezed ever so gently. Leaning in close, he cocked his head, his raspy breath hot against her cheek. “You have appalling manners, Mademoiselle.” Her eyes bulged with indignation, but she refused to let loose of the fear.
    He drew out his dagger and placed the tip against the pale skin beneath her chin. She watched his eyes narrow as her skin depressed beneath the blade.
    “How did you come to be in my woods? Who sent you alone into the grip of winter? Who seeks you with the rope? Or perhaps you are the seeker, petit espion .”
    And suddenly she was there, in the frozen forest. She remembered her walk in the woods, the chase after the dog, but what followed was hazy. She remembered fear, but could not recall the cause. She remained resolutely silent as he indented the blade a little more. She gasped as the pressure increased and as her softly exhaled breath whispered across his skin, she met his eye. Torture or entertainment, she had no idea what he intended and no intention of finding out.
    “You will tell me,” he said through gritted teeth.
    “In your dreams,” she whispered and she balled her fist, swung back her hand and connected as hard as she could with his groin.
    His howl of pain ricocheted around the small room and was almost surpassed by the boy’s spontaneous whoop of delight. He cursed wildly at the boy who ducked and beat a hasty retreat.
    Throwing off the cloak, Grace leapt to her feet and stood momentarily triumphant in her underwear, her tormentor beaten at her feet. A sudden searing pain in her thigh and an alarming shift in her equilibrium robbed her of victory before she’d fully grasped it.
    “Oh bugger,” she cried and dropped to the floor like a stone.
     

    Chapter Five
     
    They glared at each other from opposite sides of the room. Miles counted back from ten and waited patiently until her expression eventually betrayed her discomfort and a