Read Online Bewitching the Knight: (A Medieval Time Travel Romance) by Diane Darcy - Free Book Online
Authors: Diane Darcy
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digging her fingernails into him and he finally jerked his hands back, releasing her, his expression contorted as he shrieked, “You bloody, awful witch. Let go.”
She didn’t have time to be offended. She needed to get that crown before he claimed it for his own.
“She be a witch, ye say?” The guy, probably security, asked, this time in thickly accented English.
Jerry, arms up, blocked her attempts to grab the crown. “Yes, she’s definitely a witch. And a lot of other things, as well. Stop it, Samantha. It’s over. I’ve got witnesses that the crown is mine, and you hopping about and acting like a kangaroo isn’t going to change that. Enough.”
She jumped for the crown again, this time knocking it to the ground.
They both dove for it and Samantha got there first. She skipped back, holding it up in triumph. “Now who’s got possession?” She turned to run, determined to reach the gate before Jerry could stop her, when strong, burly arms closed around her from behind, effectively trapping her arms at her sides, forcing her to drop the crown.
An older, wizened man with crazy white hair picked up the crown, studied it, and then lifted a malevolent gaze to Samantha. He thrust the crown into the air and in a strong voice said, “Ye heard her, did ye not? From her own mouth, she admits she’s bedeviled, a possessed witch. Gather the firewood.”
Chapter Four
Samantha tilted her head to look at the guy behind her, and got a glance of a big, frightened face, before he jerked his head out of her view, leaving a brawny shoulder encased in a dirty white shirt within her line of vision.
“What...what are you doing?” She wiggled against the tall, hard-muscled body, and fought to free herself. “Seriously,” her voice rose in pitch. “What are you doing? Let go of me!” Her hands clenched and unclenched, trying to find some part of the guy to claw or pinch, but she couldn’t move, the bear hug effectively trapping her.
Jerry reached for the crown, but was thwarted as the old guy held it behind his back.
Jerry straightened. “Now, see here—”
“See, what?” A young, dirty, unkempt man, shorter and stockier than Jerry, loomed beside the old guy, his chest and chin jutting aggressively.
Jerry, eyes wide, took a step back. “It’s just that the crown belongs to me. Sir,” he added, and swallowed audibly. “If you could please give it back, I’ll just be on my way.”
Samantha struggled. “Jerry, you lying thief.” She bent her upper body forward, but her captor tightened his hold, squeezing like a boa constrictor, leaving her breathless. “The crown is mine,” she gasped out. “I found it. I claim credit for finding it.”
Jerry’s face was visibly sweating. “Don’t listen to her, she’s delusional.”
Ignoring them both, the brute advanced toward Jerry, forcing him backward.
The old guy lifted the crown into the air like a trophy. “Do ye see? The riches of the devil are hers for the taking.”
With a sound more rage than fear, Samantha tried to tug away, but the man standing behind her was solid, twice or more her weight, and forcing him to let her go just wasn’t happening. She was trapped. She let out a breath and relaxed against the unbathed barbarian at her back, letting him take her weight. He didn’t let her go, just continued to smell strongly of onions, woodsmoke, and body odor.
She tilted her head to get a look at the behemoth, but again, he ducked his face out of view, his shoulder hunching. “Are you the police? Is this some sort of sting operation? Because I assure you I wasn’t stealing the crown. I was going to call the Edinburgh University at first light. I’m Samantha Ryan. You can check my credentials if you want. I’m sure you’ll see that—”
She glanced around and suddenly realized police floodlights weren’t illuminating the area.
It was daytime.
The light was sunlight.
Full light. As in midday. Not just sunrise, though she’d labored for
She didn’t have time to be offended. She needed to get that crown before he claimed it for his own.
“She be a witch, ye say?” The guy, probably security, asked, this time in thickly accented English.
Jerry, arms up, blocked her attempts to grab the crown. “Yes, she’s definitely a witch. And a lot of other things, as well. Stop it, Samantha. It’s over. I’ve got witnesses that the crown is mine, and you hopping about and acting like a kangaroo isn’t going to change that. Enough.”
She jumped for the crown again, this time knocking it to the ground.
They both dove for it and Samantha got there first. She skipped back, holding it up in triumph. “Now who’s got possession?” She turned to run, determined to reach the gate before Jerry could stop her, when strong, burly arms closed around her from behind, effectively trapping her arms at her sides, forcing her to drop the crown.
An older, wizened man with crazy white hair picked up the crown, studied it, and then lifted a malevolent gaze to Samantha. He thrust the crown into the air and in a strong voice said, “Ye heard her, did ye not? From her own mouth, she admits she’s bedeviled, a possessed witch. Gather the firewood.”
Chapter Four
Samantha tilted her head to look at the guy behind her, and got a glance of a big, frightened face, before he jerked his head out of her view, leaving a brawny shoulder encased in a dirty white shirt within her line of vision.
“What...what are you doing?” She wiggled against the tall, hard-muscled body, and fought to free herself. “Seriously,” her voice rose in pitch. “What are you doing? Let go of me!” Her hands clenched and unclenched, trying to find some part of the guy to claw or pinch, but she couldn’t move, the bear hug effectively trapping her.
Jerry reached for the crown, but was thwarted as the old guy held it behind his back.
Jerry straightened. “Now, see here—”
“See, what?” A young, dirty, unkempt man, shorter and stockier than Jerry, loomed beside the old guy, his chest and chin jutting aggressively.
Jerry, eyes wide, took a step back. “It’s just that the crown belongs to me. Sir,” he added, and swallowed audibly. “If you could please give it back, I’ll just be on my way.”
Samantha struggled. “Jerry, you lying thief.” She bent her upper body forward, but her captor tightened his hold, squeezing like a boa constrictor, leaving her breathless. “The crown is mine,” she gasped out. “I found it. I claim credit for finding it.”
Jerry’s face was visibly sweating. “Don’t listen to her, she’s delusional.”
Ignoring them both, the brute advanced toward Jerry, forcing him backward.
The old guy lifted the crown into the air like a trophy. “Do ye see? The riches of the devil are hers for the taking.”
With a sound more rage than fear, Samantha tried to tug away, but the man standing behind her was solid, twice or more her weight, and forcing him to let her go just wasn’t happening. She was trapped. She let out a breath and relaxed against the unbathed barbarian at her back, letting him take her weight. He didn’t let her go, just continued to smell strongly of onions, woodsmoke, and body odor.
She tilted her head to get a look at the behemoth, but again, he ducked his face out of view, his shoulder hunching. “Are you the police? Is this some sort of sting operation? Because I assure you I wasn’t stealing the crown. I was going to call the Edinburgh University at first light. I’m Samantha Ryan. You can check my credentials if you want. I’m sure you’ll see that—”
She glanced around and suddenly realized police floodlights weren’t illuminating the area.
It was daytime.
The light was sunlight.
Full light. As in midday. Not just sunrise, though she’d labored for
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