chest, but it lodged in her throat when she realized how fast the boat was pulling away from the fort.
And taking her with it.
She kicked again, frantic to escape from the unknown men holding her. The knife slid into her skin, spilling warm blood down her throat.
"Damn it. I said hold still."
Her neck burned and the scent of her own blood filled her nose. "I don't care. As if I'd do anything you tell me to."
The arms around her tightened, locking her so hard against him she struggled to breathe. The knife remained at her throat and a soft sound passed her lips. She couldn't prevent it; helplessness was filling her so full it bubbled over.
"I'm sorry but you will do what I say." He spoke softly next to her ear. A whimper of self-pity tried to answer him but she clamped it behind her teeth, refusing to show him any more
weakness. She tried to push the hand holding the knife away from her neck but he didn't move, not even a tiny amount.
Men were filling the walls on the fort and holding torches high to try to cast light far enough out to illuminate the boat. But the efforts of her captors were pulling the small craft out farther and farther into the darkness. The oars slid into the water with smooth sounds and the men working them panted. They were rowing to freedom and she could hear them straining toward their goal.
She couldn't blame them...
But she hated the one holding her. In the blackness she felt his heart beating against her back.
He'd raised his head, no longer hiding his behind her own.
"Keep north." His voice was deeper now. A shiver went down her body. The little reaction annoyed her and she renewed her efforts to be free.
"Release me, sir!"
The knife lifted away but the hand around her chest remained, along with his leg. Tipping her head up, she caught her first look at the man who had kidnapped her. A gasp left her lips when she recognized him as the one who had told her where the water was. She was a trusting fool indeed.
"Can you swim?" He held her steady, completely ignoring her demand.
"Of course I can."
The man tightened his embrace. Oh she was so naive. But she could not take back the
information she'd just handed him.
"You.. .mongrel." She wished she knew how to swear. Lorena suddenly understood why prostitutes developed gutter language. They had to deal with rough handling such as this. Her heart was racing, straining against her corset. She was keenly aware of his body. It was much harder than she'd thought another human might feel. His strength fully amazed her. He held her without any hint of weakness. But he did remove the knife from her throat. She bucked when one arm moved, giving her the illusion of freedom.
An illusion was all it was. His embrace held her in spite of her struggles. A soft sound of frustration came past her ear before he clamped his right arm back around her. All the while, the men worked the oars. She heard every dip into the water but could only see straight ahead.
Idiotic bonnet. Society was so worried about her flirting, it had trapped her in a hat which kept her from seeing someone sneaking up behind her. She strained once more, needing an outlet for her rage. A frustrated sigh came from her captor. He leaned closer to her ear and she actually felt his warm breath.
"We're well away from the fort. Do you really wish a watery grave tonight? It would not be an easy death, I assure you."
"Do you offer me one then?" She turned her head because she wanted to see him, the brim of her bonnet prevented it. But he was correct;
the walls of the fort had faded into the night. She couldn't see the light from the wall torches any longer. A shaft of fear went through her. There was no preventing it. Nothing but darkness
surrounded them. The night seemed larger than it ever had on land, closing around the boat. It felt like they might be crushed in its grasp, just like the man holding her had the strength to do.
"As soon as you need me no longer, will that knife finish
And taking her with it.
She kicked again, frantic to escape from the unknown men holding her. The knife slid into her skin, spilling warm blood down her throat.
"Damn it. I said hold still."
Her neck burned and the scent of her own blood filled her nose. "I don't care. As if I'd do anything you tell me to."
The arms around her tightened, locking her so hard against him she struggled to breathe. The knife remained at her throat and a soft sound passed her lips. She couldn't prevent it; helplessness was filling her so full it bubbled over.
"I'm sorry but you will do what I say." He spoke softly next to her ear. A whimper of self-pity tried to answer him but she clamped it behind her teeth, refusing to show him any more
weakness. She tried to push the hand holding the knife away from her neck but he didn't move, not even a tiny amount.
Men were filling the walls on the fort and holding torches high to try to cast light far enough out to illuminate the boat. But the efforts of her captors were pulling the small craft out farther and farther into the darkness. The oars slid into the water with smooth sounds and the men working them panted. They were rowing to freedom and she could hear them straining toward their goal.
She couldn't blame them...
But she hated the one holding her. In the blackness she felt his heart beating against her back.
He'd raised his head, no longer hiding his behind her own.
"Keep north." His voice was deeper now. A shiver went down her body. The little reaction annoyed her and she renewed her efforts to be free.
"Release me, sir!"
The knife lifted away but the hand around her chest remained, along with his leg. Tipping her head up, she caught her first look at the man who had kidnapped her. A gasp left her lips when she recognized him as the one who had told her where the water was. She was a trusting fool indeed.
"Can you swim?" He held her steady, completely ignoring her demand.
"Of course I can."
The man tightened his embrace. Oh she was so naive. But she could not take back the
information she'd just handed him.
"You.. .mongrel." She wished she knew how to swear. Lorena suddenly understood why prostitutes developed gutter language. They had to deal with rough handling such as this. Her heart was racing, straining against her corset. She was keenly aware of his body. It was much harder than she'd thought another human might feel. His strength fully amazed her. He held her without any hint of weakness. But he did remove the knife from her throat. She bucked when one arm moved, giving her the illusion of freedom.
An illusion was all it was. His embrace held her in spite of her struggles. A soft sound of frustration came past her ear before he clamped his right arm back around her. All the while, the men worked the oars. She heard every dip into the water but could only see straight ahead.
Idiotic bonnet. Society was so worried about her flirting, it had trapped her in a hat which kept her from seeing someone sneaking up behind her. She strained once more, needing an outlet for her rage. A frustrated sigh came from her captor. He leaned closer to her ear and she actually felt his warm breath.
"We're well away from the fort. Do you really wish a watery grave tonight? It would not be an easy death, I assure you."
"Do you offer me one then?" She turned her head because she wanted to see him, the brim of her bonnet prevented it. But he was correct;
the walls of the fort had faded into the night. She couldn't see the light from the wall torches any longer. A shaft of fear went through her. There was no preventing it. Nothing but darkness
surrounded them. The night seemed larger than it ever had on land, closing around the boat. It felt like they might be crushed in its grasp, just like the man holding her had the strength to do.
"As soon as you need me no longer, will that knife finish
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