Read Online To Tame a Rogue by Kelly Jameson - Free Book Online Page A

night,” he said. “Now you’re going to stop wasting my time and tell me where she is. She’s leaving with me and she’s never setting foot in this establishment again.”
    The fat, cowering woman pointed a grubby finger in Camille’s direction.
    “You’ll find her o’er there Sir, but mind ye, I have no one to fill her shift....” Her voice trailed off at the incredulous look that sprung into his eyes.
    Nicholas clenched his fists and slowly turned a heated gaze in Camille’s direction. There was nowhere left to hide. That corner of the room cleared out quickly, patrons overturning wobbly, uneven tables and spilling ale in their wake. Slowly, his thickly muscled legs covered the distance between them.
    “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll take your hands off my wife,” Nicholas growled.
    “Is that so, ye bleedin’ sod? This pretty little thing, who was about to spread ‘er legs for me, is yer wife?”
    Camille struggled in his arms, noting the gold storm in Nick’s eyes. A slow, malicious smile crept over his face.
    The red-bearded man stood up and released her, ready for a fight. Camille backed away, until her small form pressed against the back wall, her heart beating wildly.
    The sailor reached down and pulled a jagged knife from his boot, smiling lecherously. “What ye gonna do now, sod?”
    “That depends mate,” Nicholas said. His eyes were intense, blazing with bronze sparks. Camille had seen him angry before, but never like this.
    The man threw his head back and laughed, then suddenly charged Nicholas. Nicholas caught his beefy arm in a deathly grip and twisted it, knocking the knife to the floor. The sailor was built like a tree trunk and the two men struggled. Nicholas got the upper hand and his fist connected with the man’s chin, causing him to stagger back.
    He charged Nicholas again, and this time, the pair tumbled over a table onto the floor. Both stood up quickly, circling each other.
    “Nicholas!” Camille shouted.
    Nicholas turned just as one of the sailor’s mates swung a chair at his head. He ducked, the rough edges of the chair leg grazing his cheek, and repositioned himself.
    “You want some too?” Nicholas said. “Happy to oblige.” With a few quick movements, a few strong jabs, the man lay in a heap on the floor. Growing impatient, Nicholas pulled a pistol from the back of his trousers and brought it close to the red-bearded man’s face.
    “You ain’t gonna use that, mate,” he said, hesitantly. “She ain’t worth that much trouble.” He raised his hands in defeat and took a step backward.
    “You’re right,” Nicholas said, his other fist shooting out, breaking jawbone and knocking the big man unconscious. “I’m not going to use it.”
    He tucked the pistol neatly into the back of his trousers, his eyes locking with Camille’s. He closed the distance between them quickly.
    “I find you here, after I expressly forbade it?” His eyes traveled over her appearance and he frowned as they linger ed on the creamy mounds of flesh straining at the low-cut bodice of her green dress.
    He reached out a finger to touch a lock of her honey-colored hair, then pulled on it, bringing her face mere inches from his, his other hand tangling in her soft hair. His voice was strained.
    “No wife of a Branton goes waltzing off as she pleases to work in a filthy tavern for a pittance. Do you understand?”
    His eyes challenged hers to respond, to say even one word. Dear God, he thought she was working ? Suddenly she remembered the tankard thrust into her hand. The rough sailors' lies about what she was going to do for him. "I wasn't…."
    “God knows what else you’ve been doing under this roof, but as long as you’re my wife, that stops too.”
    Camille was incensed. Her green eyes flashed emerald fire.
    “Release me at once, sir. I am neither your property nor your slave. If you wish to talk to me as a civilized human being, we’ll finish this discussion outside.”