Run Wild (Escape with a Scoundrel) - By Shelly Thacker Page 0,43

him, need blazing into decision. He lifted his hand to touch her.

Just as dawn slipped in.

Daybreak glimmered around the edges of the windows. He froze, his hand an inch from her cheek. The meager light barely penetrated the fabric he had tacked over the glass, illuminating the pitch-dark cabin only to dusky gray. Yet it struck him like a jarring blow. Stopped him. Slapped him awake.

What the devil had he been thinking?

The light carried the answer to the question why not? Because there wasn’t time. He had to leave this place. Run. Stay one step ahead of the law.

As the light grew stronger, it also brought back his reason. What the hell had he been thinking? He couldn’t let himself get distracted. Not even for a minute, never mind hours. He had to keep his mind clear. Concentrate on staying alive.

And bedding her would change things. He’d never met a woman yet who could accept that sex was merely a simple, natural act. They always wanted to turn it into something complicated and “meaningful.”

And the last thing he needed right now was more complications.

He could see her in the gray light, a soft outline beside him. So close... impossibly far. His body still afire, his hunger unabated, he moved his hand, tracing just one fingertip over her cheek, regretting what could not be.

She jumped as if he’d struck her and came awake in a burst of movement, jamming an elbow backward, straight into his ribs.

He grunted in surprise and pain. She shouted a wordless cry of protest and leaped out of the bed—apparently forgetting for a critical moment that they were shackled together.

The cuff yanked hard against his ankle. Cursing, he stood just as the shackles brought her up short. The chain went taut and she went tumbling. She landed on her shapely backside.

“Don’t touch me!” She lashed out with her free foot, trying unsuccessfully to scramble backward.

“I’m not coming anywhere near you,” he assured her in an annoyed growl. “Calm—”

“Stay back!” Somehow her little knife had ended up on the floor. She grabbed it and struck out in a swift, slashing arc.

Aiming toward a particularly vulnerable spot.

Dodging the blade, he swore vividly. “That’s bloody well enough of that.” He reached for her, grabbing her wrist. “What the hell is wrong with you, woman? I wasn’t doing a damned thing to hurt you.”

“Blackguard. I knew I couldn’t trust you!” Rising to her knees, she struggled against his hold. “Let me go!”

“As soon as you stop trying to slice me in half.” He squeezed her wrist with just enough pressure to send the knife clattering to the floor.

“No!” She was gasping for breath now, almost hysterical.

“I’m not going to hurt you—”

“Don’t touch me! I don’t want you to touch me!”

Before he could muster any kind of reply that might quiet her, he heard a sound in the distance. From somewhere deep in the woods.

“Shh!” He put his other hand over her mouth and went utterly still, listening.

She kept struggling. His palm smothered what he knew must be a colorful string of curses.

Then she froze too as the sound grew louder, unmistakable—a pack of hunting dogs, baying in full voice. Coming this way. Straight toward the cabin.

They’d been found.

Chapter 10

Nicholas uttered a short, vicious oath. He instantly released the girl and turned to scoop up his pistol from beneath the bed. He grabbed the fishing creel he had packed with supplies.

The girl remained frozen, wide-eyed as the barking of the hounds echoed through the forest. “Maybe they’re hunting deer,” she suggested tremulously. “Or fox.”

“Hunters only come into Cannock Chase after one kind of prey.” He slung the fishing creel over his good shoulder. “Outlaws.”

“But we don’t know that they’re after us.”

“Do you want to wait here and ask?” He shoved the knife that he had reclaimed from her into his boot. Then he took her arm and tugged her to her feet. “Move, your ladyship.”

The chain rattled against the floorboards as he hurried her toward the exit. Keeping the pistol in his right hand, he opened the door, just a crack.

Outside, pale shafts of morning sunlight spiraled through the trees, glistening on bright leaves and evergreens and grass wet with dew. It all looked deceptively peaceful. He didn’t see anyone. No riders. No dogs. Not so much as a single pup.

But he could hear the howling, yelping pack. No more than a half-mile away.

“How could they have found us so quickly?” the girl whispered.

“Must’ve been searching all night,” he replied curtly. “With