Run Wild (Escape with a Scoundrel) - By Shelly Thacker Page 0,79

town as quickly as possible. He had five days left to make it to York, which meant he had to do two things as quickly as possible. One, get a horse.

Two, get free of the lovely lady at his side.

A thought which no longer held any appeal.

He shook his head in amazement. Just days ago, he had wanted nothing but to get away from Samantha Delafield. But now the idea of being separated from her brought a peculiar ache to his chest. One that had nothing to do with the sensual torture he had endured this morning, the arousal still running through his blood like a river of fire.

He had never experienced this strange... longing before. He rubbed at his chest, wishing he could wipe away the feeling as easily as he brushed off the perspiration that dotted his skin.

The chain caught on a root and he stumbled.

He recovered before he could fall, but Samantha caught his arm. “Are you sure you’re strong enough to keep going?”

“I’m fine.”

She let go of him at once.

Realizing he had snapped at her, he repeated it more gently. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but he wasn’t about to explain that it hadn’t been physical weakness that tripped him, but thoughts of her.

Which was becoming a weakness in itself. As she looked up at him, as their gazes met and held, a blush suffused her cheeks. He couldn’t help smiling. She had been blushing all day, every time she glanced at him. Reaching out, he touched her face. She smiled shyly, her lashes sweeping downward. He would have sworn he saw a shiver go through her.

“It seems I’ve put a permanent smile on your face,” he said wickedly, enjoying the way his teasing made her color deepen. He lightly caressed her cheek. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, angel.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly, raising her chin.

Her reaction pleased him. He saw no trace of shame or regret in her eyes. She had embraced passion the same way she embraced all of life. Simply and completely. With warmth and enthusiasm and her whole heart.

She kept surprising him with her conflicting facets, each more intriguing than the last. Miss Samantha Delafield was a woman of delicate sensibilities and steely strength. A refined lady and a talented thief. A sweet innocent who could unabashedly enjoy her sensuality.

Before he knew what he was doing, Nicholas bent his head and kissed her. Her mouth met his warmly, softly. Already she was learning to kiss him back, meeting his passion with her own. His hands came up to her shoulders and he pulled her close. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He had known so little tenderness in his life and she had so much to give, shared it so willingly, that he drank it in like a man cast adrift.

His lips molded to hers and her sweet feminine fire seared him, sending a riot of sensations through him. His response to her seemed to grow stronger every time he touched her.

Abruptly he lifted his head, his body taut, his heart pounding. “You are dangerous, lady.”

He said it with a grin, kept his tone light, but knew he was only half-joking.

She was breathing as hard as he was, her eyes a deep, molten gold. “Are you going to keep your word later?” A mysterious smile played at one corner of her mouth.

“My word?” he echoed, confused.

“You said I could touch you,” she reminded him softly, “later.”

Nicholas felt her voice flow through him like a potent draught of whiskey, felt as if every nerve ending in his body had just been set alight. “Right,” he choked out at last. “I did, didn’t I?” Desperately trying to think of a way to back out of that agreement, he turned her away from him, still holding her by the shoulders, and nudged her forward. “But right now, we need to keep our minds on the trouble we’re in, or else we’re going to find ourselves back in gaol. Or worse.”

She flashed him a look over her shoulder and started off, leading the way.

Following behind her, he tried to gather up the scrambled pieces of his reason. Which was bloody difficult. Especially when she looked at him as she just had—with a glance that held sweet sensual promise, eyes that shimmered with...

He didn’t know what to call it. Didn’t want to think about it. Tried to put it out of his mind.

Later. He felt his gut twist into a knot tighter than a