dashed back through the house and scrambled out the front entrance. She ran down the street as though Death himself was chasing her. She dared not look back for fear she would see the fiend.
Taylor wasted no time pursuing Jalene. His manservant Quinn, however, chose just the same moment Taylor was exiting the terrace home to enter it.
“Don’t move.” He placed his hand on Quinn’s shoulder to hold him still and scooted past.
“Where are ye off to like the devil be chasin’ ye?” Quinn shouted at him.
“I’ll be back later,” Taylor answered over his shoulder while he sped towards the retreating figure at the end of the street.
Jalene slowed her pace and glanced nervously behind her. She was surprised not to see Taylor. She stopped and struggled to catch her breath. Surely he hadn’t given up so easily. She cautiously surveyed her surroundings, fully expecting him to appear at any moment. When he didn’t, she rubbed the stitch in her side and scampered across the road to St. Stephen’s Green. The heavy rains several days earlier had caused deep pools of water to collect along the low wall surrounding the field, reaching the sloping bank off the footpath. Fortunately, the ground around the trees and shrubbery that bordered the field and footpath was higher and appeared relatively dry. It would serve as an adequate place to hide. She hurried down the path, her confidence growing with each step that took her closer to a place of refuge and farther from Taylor. Maybe if she stayed hidden long enough, he would think she’d left Dublin.
Before she could act on the thought, a hand grabbed her arm and jerked her backwards. She clawed and fought to pry loose the grip of Taylor’s hand. She even kicked at his lower body parts.
He blocked her kick with his knee. His leg caught hers and became tangled in her skirt. She lost her balance and fell, carrying him down with her. They landed on the sloping bank of the footpath and tumbled a few times before they stopped near a deep puddle.
“Let me go,” she cried, squirming beneath him and pounding her fists into his chest. “Are you planning to drown me?”
“Not a bad idea, considering you just attempted to shoot my head off my shoulders.” He grabbed her wrists and pinned them down by her head. He pressed his body against her and stretched his long legs across hers.
“I never really meant to fire the pistol. You startled me.” She pleaded with him. “It was an accident.”
“Was it? I knew the pistol wasn’t loaded, but you didn’t.” He studied her face. “Maybe you have something to hide, or someone you want to protect.”
“Neither,” she lied. “I simply want to return home.”
The closeness of his body and his penetrating grey-blue eyes staring at her made her all too aware of him as a man. “Get off me.”
She watched his gaze slowly travel from her face to focus on the bodice of her gown. The ill-fitting garment stretched in an indecent manner across her chest, exposing more of her breasts than it should.
“Let me go.” She tried to sit up, but he continued to hold her. His gaze returned to her face. Despite her lack of experience, she recognized the sparkle of desire in his eyes.
He brushed her lips lightly with his own. “Not likely,” he whispered.
Too astonished to turn away, she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. In a voice that cracked, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“This.” He covered her lips with his again.
His breath was warm against her burning mouth. She was prepared to deal with his anger, but not his arousing kisses. She moved her mouth against his, surprised to find she craved the intimacy.
He released her wrists to cradle her in his arms and murmured against her lips. “Open your mouth to me, Jalene.”
Wanting more of him, she did. His tongue darted inside, sending rippling sensations throughout her body. Sensations that she knew she ought not be experiencing with him.
Still, she embraced
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