My captor had best understand one thing: I am not easy prey.
Being stolen by orcs was bad enough, but now I have been saddled with one who thinks himself charming. Aye, so mayhap he is handsome—for an orc. But he is still a tusked, green, seven-foot-tall barbarian, and I have no intention of staying his prisoner.
However, he is a hunter, and when I escape, he tracks me down and makes me…apologize in the best sort of way. I shouldn’t think of this as a game, but I can’t deny the way it makes my blood pound to be chased through the forest by such a male, and with such pleasure at stake.
He doesn’t realize I am a determined sort of female, and I know what I want. If running from him will obtain it, then I will run. And he will hunt.
