BooksBarbecue
Back The Runaway Heiress
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?

Still no answer. He shifted back in his seat, crossed his arms, and waited. He would wait all day if need be. The tension in the air vibrated on a knife’s edge between them. “You might as well tell me, because we are not leaving this car until you do.”

It was a matter of a split second. Caught him off guard. She moved like some kind of superhero, lunged forward, hit the unlock button, snagged her gray purse from between her feet.

“Rach . . . wait!” He reached for her, but he was too late. She’d already unstrapped, yanked the door open, and had tumbled out.

*   *   *

She ran. Knowing it was pointless. Knowing she had nowhere to go. Knowing the walls were closing in fast. And yet she ran. Could hear the thump of his feet gaining on her. And then he was there. His body was like a brick wall, stopped her in her tracks. His arms, like steel, surrounded and encased her. Wouldn’t let go, no matter how violently she fought. And she fought like a cornered animal with nothing left to lose. Striking, clawing any surface she could reach. He managed to capture her hands, but she still had her teeth, could kick. Too close, held too tight to manage a knee to the groin, but it didn’t stop her from trying.

“Rachel . . . Rachel . . . Please.” Through the thick fog of her fear, it dawned on her that there was no malice in his voice, no anger, even though he had to be hurting. He wasn’t fighting back, either. The blows her body had instinctually braced for never landed. “Please, Rachel. I mean you no harm . . .” But it was the gentleness with which he contained her, the kindness in his voice, the concern and worry that caused the fight to drain from her body and left just the tears.

He cradled her into his chest, tucked her head in close. She could hear his breath, ragged, too, his heart thumping hard beneath his shirt. His head bowed over hers, his warm breath on her hair, and she could feel his hand making gentle circles on her back, as if she were a child that needed soothing. The comforting, safe scent of him made her weep all the harder. For all that she’d lost and all she’d never had.

*   *   *