Run Wild (Escape with a Scoundrel) - By Shelly Thacker Page 0,22

sent the world spinning around her just as it had when they plunged down the ravine. In shock, she ran for several minutes before reason finally penetrated her daze. Like one of the beams of sunlight breaking through the trees, it hit her with stunning clarity: she was no longer on her way to London to face the magistrates and her uncle’s retribution.

She was in far worse trouble. Racing headlong into Cannock Chase with a madman.

And she was going along like a sheep.

“N-no!” She tried to wrest her arm from his grip, stumbling.

He held her up and pulled her forward with him, giving her no choice but to keep moving.

“Stop!” She resisted again, desperately trying to shake him off. Running, gasping for breath, she tried to think of some way to reason with him. To get the shackles off so she could get away from him. “W-we should go toward a town—”

“Every town for miles will be crawling with lawmen before the sun sets.” He ducked under a low-hanging branch and kept going, his blunt, strong fingers holding fast to her arm.

“But I d-don’t think—”

“I don’t give a damn what you think.” He swept her along with him.

“Well, I don’t give a damn what you say! I am not going into Cannock Chase with you!” She stopped suddenly, digging in her heels.

And he was moving so fast, she yanked him off balance.

The chain jerked taut, tripped him. He went down face-first and the sudden tug on the shackles pulled her feet out from under her. Arms flailing, she fell backward with a startled cry and landed flat on her back in a carpet of leaves and pine needles, sending a shower of both into the air.

She could hear the rogue groan a low sound of pain as she lay there struggling for breath, coughing on the cloud of dust that billowed up from the forest floor. Every inch of her felt pummeled, scraped, aching. Her left ankle throbbed painfully from the sharp pull on the tight iron cuff.

He sat up first, pushing himself to his knees with an oath... turning to look at her with a thunderous expression on his face.

The instinct to scramble away flashed through her head but he was too quick. He lunged toward her, pushed her down into the leaves.

She screamed, trying to throw him off, but he pinned her with his weight. An icy blast of unreasoning terror swept through her.

Memories of her Uncle Prescott.

“No!” She struck at the rogue with her fists, struggled with all her strength. She would never let herself be hurt that way again. Never. “Get off of me! Get—”

“Shut up.” He grabbed her wrists, fastened them to the ground on either side of her head, breathing hard, his eyes piercing hers. “Shut up and stop making trouble for two seconds, damn it—”

“Let me go!” God help her, she hadn’t realized until now that he might intend to... to...

They were utterly alone together. The chain made escape impossible. And the way he had her pinned, she couldn’t even defend herself with a knee or a kick as she had against Swinton last night.

“Don’t touch me!” she snapped. “Take your hands off of me! If y-you so much as l-lay one hand on me, I’ll kill you. I swear it!”

He stared down at her, surprise mixing with the anger in his hard features.

Then, slowly, understanding glimmered in his eyes, and he levered his weight off of her a bit. “Don’t worry, angel.” A mocking grin curved his mouth. “That’s not what I had in mind. You forget, I saw what happened to the last man who tried to get friendly with you.”

She blinked up at him, confused. Was he making light of her threat? Or making a joke?

She kept fighting against his hold.

“I’ll let you go,” he continued, some of the storminess returning to his expression, “just as soon as you calm down and listen to reason.”

Despite his wounded shoulder, he subdued her and held her still, easily. Too easily. She hadn’t realized until now how strong he actually was. How much power lay in that lean, muscled frame. And she could tell he was only using a fraction of that strength at the moment. If he chose to take her...

Her heart hammering, she froze, paralyzed by the knowledge that she couldn’t hope to fend him off.

But oddly enough, as soon as she stopped fighting, he relaxed his hold. In fact, though he had rendered her immobile, though he was obviously furious,