Kristine was kneeling next to her simple bed, praying, when Mother Superior softly rapped on her door. "Your carriage has arrived, my child."
Quickly Kristine finished her prayer, and rose gracefully to her feet. If He were going to answer her prayers he'd have to do it on the way to her wedding. Her father had decreed that she was to marry James O'Connor. Inwardly Kristine shuddered at the name.
James O'Connor was an old man who'd already been married twice, each of his wives dying under suspicious circumstances. But he was rich, and money was all that Kristine's father cared about, money and position. Dejectedly Kristine climbed into her fiancée's elegant carriage, and turned her eyes to stare unseeingly out the window. Finally she dozed off, her soft cheek pillowed against the side of the carriage.
Several hours later her eyes popped open in alarm, every muscle in her body tense with fear. Outside she could hear her coachman shouting obscenity's at someone, a gunshot, and then, in the utter silence, the door to her carriage was flung open, a large man, with red hair and piercing blue eyes standing in the doorway.
"Well, well, lookie what we 'ave 'ere." he boomed. "And the coachman said 'e was carryin' nuttin of value. My Lord is anxiously awaiting your arrival." he sneered at her, one strong hand yanking her from carriage.
Screaming and struggling, Kristine clawed at the meaty fist that enclosed her wrist, trying desperately to escape. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the coachman sitting, another man pointing a gun at him. Making no acknowledgement of her efforts to free herself her captor tossed her up onto his horse. Effortlessly he vaulted up behind her, his large hand pressing on the small of her back, holding her down. Furious, Kristine turned her head, and sank her teeth into his meaty calf.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph." the man swore, swinging his large fist at her face, and everything went dark.
The next thing Kristine knew she was being laid gently on a soft surface.
"God damn it." the man holding her said, his voice quieter, cultured. "I told you she was to remain unharmed."
"But, Cap'n!" her captors voice whined. "She bit me! Damn near took a chunk out of me leg!"
The other voice sighed quietly in exasperation. "There are other ways to deal with defiance, ones that don't involve beating on a woman half your size. Did it occur to you to gag her?" he asked sarcastically. Kristine felt a cool rag placed gently on her face, and she groaned softly, her hand rising to the sore spot on her head.
"Thank God, she's waking. Leave us, I will pay you later," the voice said curtly.
Blearily Kristine opened her eyes, gasping in alarm at the man standing beside her. He was Satan personified, with his silky black hair, and cold silver eyes. His strongly muscled arms were behind his back, and his feet were braced a shoulders width apart. He smiled coolly at the fear in her eyes.
"Welcome back to the world, my lady." he said, his lips twisted sardonically. "It was not very intelligent of you to antagonize Smitty. You are lucky to be alive."
"Who are you?" Kristine croaked, a tremulous hand grasping the silver cross around her throat.
"I am Lord Eric Daniels."
Kristine gasped in surprise, everyone knew of the Earl of Summerset, and she couldn't imagine what he'd want with her. He was well known for his prowess with women, he certainly didn't need to force himself on her. "What do you want with me?" she stuttered.
"Revenge." he said uncompromisingly. "You will help me achieve revenge against my father's killer, the bastard James O'Connor."
Looking into his eyes, the strength of his resolve seared its way into Kristine's soul; she knew nothing she said would dissuade him.
"May I have a glass of water?" she whispered.
Eric turned to the wall to pour some water in a slim glass, and Kristine quickly took advantage of his distraction. She surged to her feet, and ran for the door, spurred on by his quiet oath. Flinging open the door, she flew out, running into what felt like a wall. Two large hands reached out to steady her.
"Well, well miss." A familiar voice said. "So we meet again."
Kristine looked up into the familiar face of Smitty, and fearfully stilled her struggle, afraid of the force of Smitty's big hands. Looking over her head to someone standing behind her, Smitty smirked, and said. "I thought you might get in trouble with this sweet little piece, so I thought I'd keep guard out here."
"Thank you." Eric said coldly. "Come, my dear," he said to Kristine, his hard hand wrapped around her arm. "Let us return to the sitting room."
Kristine dropped her head, dejected; she'd never stood a chance. With one last wistful glance down the long hallway she allowed Eric to pull her back into the room, flinching as the door slammed behind her.
"You will be punished for that show of defiance," he growled in her ear, his bulging arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her tiny body to his hard muscled chest. His hands come up to cup her heaving breasts, then up further to the neckline of her habit. She gasped, and struggled as with a strong pull he ripped her gown from her.
"No, please, don't." she whimpered as with a few more yanks and pulls, he had torn all her chemise and petticoats from her, and she stood naked in his arms, her dainty hands desperately trying to cover her nudity.
"Well, well, well." he said, his voice growing husky with desire. "What a lovely body you have, luv. I think I'm going to enjoy having you at my mercy." Scared, Kristine burst from his arms, racing to put the desk between them.
