The Virgin's Choice(3)

But the man didn’t even smile. She cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t joke. You must have traveled a long distance for our wedding, only to arrive an hour too late. That would make anyone upset.”

“Upset?” he ground out.

“I’ll get you some champagne inside,” she urged. Her feet started inching back again toward the castle. “Lars will be so happy to see you.”

The man barked a sudden laugh. “Is that another joke?”

Rose stopped. “Aren’t you one of his friends?”

The man drew closer to her.

“No,” he said. “I am not a friend.”

His body towered over hers without touching her, leaving her in shadow. She felt his physical strength like a threat.

And suddenly, she knew that her instincts had been right all along.

She had to flee for safety—now.

“Excuse me,” she choked out, stumbling back. “My husband’s waiting for me. Hundreds of people—security guards, policemen—are waiting for our first dance as a married couple…”

The man’s hand flew out to grab her upper arm over her translucent lace sleeve, gripping her tight, preventing her escape.

“Married?” he repeated in cold fury.

Why was he looking as if he might kill her for saying something so innocent and so obvious? “Yes, it’s our—You’re hurting me!”

His hand had tightened, gripping painfully into her arm. His black eyes stared down at her with deep, fathomless rage as he slowly looked from her breasts, which were pushed up by the tight bodice, to the enormous diamond ring sparkling on her left hand.#p#分页标题#e#

Finally, his eyes met hers, and it was like a blast of fire as he said in a low voice, “You both deserve to burn in hell for what you’ve done.”

She gaped at him. “What? What are you talking about?”

With a brutal jerk, he pulled her so close to him that her wide tulle skirts whirled around his muscular legs.

“You know,” he said in a low, grim voice. “And you know why I’ve come.”

“I don’t!” she panted, struggling in his brutal grip. “Are you insane? Let me go!”

An icy breeze lifted her veil above her blond chignon, up into the air, swirling around them both in the dark frozen night. She felt the latent power and hostility emanating off the stranger’s strong body, and for a moment, she felt lost in a medieval nightmare of ice, fire and Vikings.

But this wasn’t a dream! He held her tight, crushing her fruitless struggles.

“You are a liar, just as I knew you’d be,” he hissed in her ear. She saw the ice crystals of their joined breath swirl like mist and smoke around them, before he pulled back to look down at her with hard eyes. “What I did not realize was that you would also be so beautiful.”

“You’ve…you’ve made some kind of mistake.” She licked her dry lips. His dark eyes fell to her mouth, tracing the movement of her tongue.

Her lips burned beneath his gaze, causing a scorching trail of fire to spread down her body, sizzling from her lips to her earlobes. To her breasts. To her core, coiling low in her belly.

“No mistake,” he said roughly, his grip tightening on her shoulders. “You’ve committed a crime. Now you will pay.”

“You’re drunk—or crazy!”

Kicking his shins, she wrenched away from his grasp. Desperately, she fled toward the bright, warm castle, with its music and free-flowing champagne. She ran for safety. Ran for her life. Toward her family and her new husband and the crowds of beautiful, laughing, celebrating Swedes.

But the stranger caught up with her. She felt his hands roughly grab her and she screamed.

With a savage growl, he seized her, lifting her up in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest as if she weighed nothing at all. Her white, translucent veil flew behind them as he carried her across the snowy garden.

“What are you doing? Stop!” she cried, kicking and struggling in his arms. “Let me go! Help! Someone help me!”

But no one came. No one could hear her screams inside the castle, over the noise of the orchestra.

Holding her, the man grimly waded through the snow toward the three black SUVs parked in the dark courtyard. She heard the three engines start. She screamed and twisted against him, fighting with all her strength, but her abductor barely seemed to notice.

And why should he? What was Rose’s strength, compared to his?

He pushed her inside the back door of the last SUV, then slid in beside her, closing the door behind them.

“Go,” he said.

The driver stomped on the gas, scattering rocks and gravel as the back tires slid on a patch of ice. The other two cars roared ahead of them, as they sped into the dark forested mountains of the countryside.