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Back The Runaway Heiress Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR MEG TILLY AND HER NOVELS
  3. TITLES BY MEG TILLY
  4. Dedication
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  69. Excerpt from SOLACE ISLAND
  70. 1
  71. 2
  72. 3
  73. 4
  74. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  75. What’s next onyour reading list?

Sarah kept her hand tucked in the crook of his arm. The better to steer him with, she told herself, knowing it was a lie. The human contact, the strength she could feel under the fabric of his clothes, comforted and settled her. Made her feel safe. She wanted to bury her face in his chest and breathe in the spicy, clean male scent of him. She wanted to slide her hands under that fitted charcoal-gray T-shirt and imprint the texture and warmth, the contours onto her fingertips, her palms. “We’ll take Lexington,” she said, proud of how even-keeled her voice sounded. She gave his arm a little “we’re just pals; nothing to see here” pat for good measure as they headed up the road.

“Hey,” he complained, a grumpy bemusement in his eyes. “I’m not a dog.”

No kidding, she thought, stifling a snort. You are a hot-blooded, sexy man who is driving me wild with lust. “Note to self,” she said as they strode along the pavement at a good clip. “Mick Talford is not a dog.” She smiled cheerily up at him. “Thanks for the clarification. Kind of hard to tell.” She waved her hand in his direction. “What with your shaggy hair and the lolling tongue.”

“Shut up and walk,” he growled.

“Ooh. Tough guy.”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t have to. The man had distracted her from the jangly nerves that had been plaguing her all morning, bless his heart. Sarah felt she could face anything striding alongside this man, enjoying the sunshine on her face.

39

Mick had kept the conversation trotting along as they wended their way through the packed crowds, but once they stepped into the elevator, Sarah had fallen silent. By the time the button for the twenty-eighth floor lit, her chin was up, her shoulders were back, and her face was as serene as still water. However, her grip had tightened fractionally on his forearm. He didn’t turn, could see her blurry reflection in the polished metal elevator door. Mick placed his hand over hers, just for a second, a fleeting contact to say, “I’m here. You aren’t alone,” before the elevator doors opened.

“Thanks,” she whispered, facing forward as well.