Jacq's Warlord
Jacq's Warlord
“With her hands untied.
As the tent flap fell into place, Jacq’s breath caught. Her first thoughts were of escape, but where would she go? She couldn’t go running back home. Her home was over eight hundred years away. If she escaped this group of soldiers, what other dangers would she find?
What was that saying? Better the devil you know… Jacq stomped her foot in the dirt. She hated that she needed protection. Especially his! Could she stand to take orders from the brute? And what if he made good on his threat to take her whenever he wanted?
A thrill of something not exactly resembling dread trembled down her spine.
Despite his rugged scars, the arrogant bastard was possibly the most attractive man Jacq had met in either the twelfth or the twenty-first centuries.
Of course, this realization had no bearing on her decision to stay with Lord Rathburn until she had a better plan.
Resigned to being hopelessly stuck for now, she recognized a more immediate concern.
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