Run Wild (Escape with a Scoundrel) - By Shelly Thacker Page 0,62

a woman. Whenever he had looked at her that way, she had ignored it. Changed the subject. Brushed him aside with an icy glare or some haughty comment. That hunger in his eyes made it impossible for her to trust him.

He groaned again, the sound so pitiful, so filled with pain.

Sam stared down at him, torn between the need to help him... and the caution that had been her shield, her protection for so many years.

But he would not survive without her help. She could not turn away from him now.

And for heaven’s sake, he was unconscious! Wounded. Ravaged by days of fever.

She breathed deeply, tried to slow her racing heart and her spinning thoughts. By all the graces, she knew what she had to do. If only she—

The flutter of wings swept past her again.

Sam whirled, turning one way and another. It hadn’t been a dream. That sound was real. Bats?

She saw a small shape, just beyond the edge of the firelight. And it wasn’t a bat.

It was a bird.

She stared, unable to breathe for a moment. A bird. A small, brown, ordinary sparrow. It hopped closer, pecked at the pile of moss beside the biscuit tin.

Sam blinked at it. How had it gotten inside? Through the crevasse behind the falls? She doubted a bird could navigate the twisting tunnels and low openings they had squeezed through—not in the darkness.

It must have come in through another entrance.

Another exit.

One not far from here.

Almost as soon as she had the thought, the bird hopped away and took flight, into the darkness—heading away from the direction they had come, away from the falls.

Sam’s heart pounded, and she realized she was shaking. Not with fear this time, but with hope. Despite everything, there was hope. A way out, a way to freedom!

She turned back toward the rogue.

If she gave in to her fear now, it would mean certain death for both of them. Swallowing hard, she summoned her courage.

Her trust.

She edged closer... and lay down beside him.

And felt instantly, uncomfortably aware of every muscled inch of him. Of every shiver that went through his angular frame. Of the way her body fit perfectly to his, even when she merely pressed against his side. As if she’d been made to fit there.

Her stomach in knots, she slid one arm across his midsection... slowly... and rested her head on his chest. And felt the matted hair, bristly against her cheek.

And the brand.

And she did not dare close her eyes.

Chapter 14

Floating. He felt himself floating. Strange that he could do that, when his body felt so heavy. Weighted down. Anchored. Yet he drifted, carried by a warm tide. One made not of water, but of fog... soft, dusky, pleasant... just like the scent that drew him to awareness.

A familiar scent. As captivating as it was delicate. A whisper of warm temptation. It enticed him out of the darkness, but he felt so weak, so heavy... so drowsy...

With a monumental effort, he lifted one eyelid, halfway.

Then the other.

His head spun dizzily. He couldn’t see anything but darkness... and the unsteady glow of some kind of light on his left. He wondered where he was. He should know, he thought. But he could not remember. How had he come to be in this place? And where exactly was he?

Everything looked remote, hazy, blurry, as if he were viewing it through the reverse end of a spyglass.

What, for example, was this unfamiliar tangle of blonde hair just beyond the end of his nose?

He blinked once, twice, until it finally came into focus.

A woman. It was a woman.

Miss Delafield, his memory supplied.

He almost smiled, found he didn’t have the strength. But what a pleasant surprise. Well worth the effort of opening his eyelids.

Miss Delafield. Yes, of course. Other bits and pieces started clicking together in his mind. Shackles. Bullet. Forest. Waterfall...

But none of those held his attention at the moment, not compared to the woman wrapped intimately around him. She lay curled beside him, half atop him, her head resting on his chest. Asleep. Soft... warm.

She brought his senses awake one by one—the irresistible dusky-sweet scent that was uniquely hers, the silky feel of her cheek and her arm against his bare skin, the delicate warmth of her breath caressing his chest...

He liked having her here. Liked it very much. They fit so perfectly together. He had known they would.

But by God, he had never known that just having her here with him could feel so good. He had been