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“You have a debt to pay. You owe me your life.”
Anwen, bastard of Brynmor, has fought hard to find her place in the world. But she’s forced to rethink everything when she’s saved from death by her enemy Teague, Lord of Gwalchdu. Instead of releasing her, he holds her captive...
Teague trusts no one. So, with ominous messages threatening his life, he must keep Anwen under his watch, no matter how much her presence drives him wild. And when passionate arguments turn to passionate encounters, Teague must believe that the strength of their bond will conquer all!
It was pitch-black when Anwen woke again.
This time she didn’t move her head. Her throat was sore and her stomach was filled with acid. Sleep was blessed, but something had woken her. There was a smell nearby like leather and sandalwood.
She opened her eyes. He was so close she thought the blackness of his eyes was simply the darkness of the room. Then the heat of his gaze touched her and she realised this blackness was alive. A feeling of quietude entered her. The one who’d comforted her in the night had returned.
‘You’ve come back,’ she said, trying to smile.
He did not reply, but his eyes held hers. She couldn’t look away.
NICOLE LOCKE discovered her first romance novels in her grandmother’s closet, where they were secretly hidden. Convinced that books that were hidden must be better than those that weren’t, Nicole greedily read them. It was only natural for her to start writing them—but now not so secretly. She lives in London with her two children and her husband—her happily-ever-after.
Books by Nicole Locke
Mills & Boon Historical Romance
Lovers and Legends
The Knight’s Broken Promise
Her Enemy Highlander
The Highland Laird’s Bride
In Debt to the Enemy Lord
Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk.
In Debt to the Enemy Lord
Nicole Locke
To Mary,
Look, oh, look. I finally finished this story! The one I started so many years ago; the one you patiently read as I turned sentences around and repeated paragraphs.
Please look at this book, this wonderful, dreadful book. The one I never finished while you were still here.
Oh, it’s not the book I want you to see, but your family, your grandchildren, their red hair so similar to yours.
I so wish you’d look, oh, look and see how much we miss you.
Contents
Helplessly, he stood beside her in the early morning light. He stood partly in darkness, but she knelt on the cold stone floor at the entrance of the fortress and the sun’s light cut like spears across her huddled form.