Run Wild (Escape with a Scoundrel) - By Shelly Thacker Page 0,63

waking up alone for so many years. This felt... right. In a way that went beyond explanation. Impossibly, achingly right.

He tried to lift his hand, longing to touch her, but it required too much strength.

That frustrated him. Blast. It seemed incredibly unfair.

Just keeping his eyes open required more effort than he could manage. He resisted but the fog enfolded him again, slowly pulling him down... warm, soft, silky. Like the lady who held him close... so gentle, so innocent.

And somehow he found the strength to smile.

~ ~ ~

Sam came awake all at once, startled by a loud sound. She remained where she was, disoriented. She couldn’t see in the complete blackness that surrounded her.

She couldn’t believe she had fallen asleep. Deeply, peacefully. Even as she tried to adjust to that surprising fact, she recognized the sound that had awakened her.

His heartbeat, beneath her ear.

Steady, strong.

Gasping, she listened for a moment. There was no mistake. She could feel his heart thudding with a regular, powerful rhythm. And he was no longer shivering. The chills had passed. His skin felt warm beneath her cheek, her arm, her hand. His chest rose and fell evenly. His breathing had returned to normal.

He was going to be all right.

She couldn’t move for a moment, swept up in a wave of emotions that washed over her all at once. She whispered a prayer of thanks, closing her eyes, the worry and despair pouring off her like rain, leaving behind relief. Joy.

And something more. That unfamiliar feeling she had first noticed last night. Like sympathy, but stronger, mingled with a sort of...

She couldn’t define it. Fellowship, perhaps. The kind soldiers must feel after going through battle together. She had no word for it, but words did not matter at the moment.

He was going to live.

Her muscles went slack as her tension drained away. They would be able to leave the cave, perhaps soon. There were things she should do. Find more moss. Rekindle the fire in the biscuit tin. Get more water.

But at the moment she didn’t want to do anything but stay right where she was, beside him. Listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

A moment later, she opened her eyes, lifting her head, feeling uneasy. What was she thinking?

She wanted to stay beside him?

Unsettled, she turned away and busied herself relighting the fire. With a scrape of steel against granite, sparks became flame, and after a few minutes, a scant pool of light encircled them.

Setting the little knife aside, she watched the golden glow warm his features, wishing she could make sense of these uncomfortable new feelings. For so many years she had cautiously kept her distance from men—especially any large, ill-tempered, heavily muscled, or aggressive types. And he was all four.

But somehow, with this particular man, her caution seemed to have vanished.

Instead of feeling wary of him, she felt... drawn to him by some powerful force she had never felt before in her life, could not explain.

Without thinking, she reached out to touch him. Tentatively, lightly. As if lost in a trance, she watched her hand move over the broad expanse of his chest, tracing the massive curve of shoulder into bicep, the veins that stood out on his arms. Even his wrists were large, heavy. It seemed he had been made with no softness at all, every part of him angular, rough, hard.

Whatever gentleness he possessed was well hidden. Perhaps so deeply that even he didn’t know it was there.

Fascinated, she couldn’t make herself stop as her fingers encountered one unexpected texture after another. The coarseness of the dark hair that blanketed his chest and narrowed to a fine line down the center of his body. The ridges of muscle that sharply defined his ribcage. He was so different from her in every way.

But somehow the differences didn’t seem threatening. They seemed... intriguing.

Sam went still, her hand coming to rest in the mat of black hair on his chest. Her heart was pounding. And an unfamiliar heat spread through her middle, pooling deep in her belly.

Now what was happening to her? The sensation was utterly foreign, yet it seemed to come from the very core of her being.

Oddly, she noticed that his heart seemed to be beating much faster than it had before...

She froze. Unable to lift her hand, she turned her head, slowly, as if in a dream, to look at his face.

And found him staring up at her.

Their gazes locked. She felt as if she’d been struck by a bolt of