Read Online Setting Him Free by Alexandra Marell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alexandra Marell
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the life of me
work out what I did to deserve it, though."
Taylor tolerated the pain in his arm because to move
now would look like a rejection. Danielle rested her chin on his
shoulder, keeping very still. Apart from the occasional sniff, she
remained silent, absorbing his words. Both of them way past the
need to question any of this.
Accept it . In a life so empty, any crumb of
happiness was a bonus. Only now did he realise how starved of
happiness he'd been.
"Let's get a bit more comfy, shall we?"
Danielle lifted her head from his shoulder. "Oh,
Taylor, I'm hurting you." She shifted back and levered herself
awkwardly onto the seat behind her. "Thank you," she said. "I don't
have words for it, either. I wish I did. I really wish I did."
Her mouth, so gentle on his, her tongue delicately
outlining his lips, making him want her all over again.
Needle-sharp pain shot through his legs as the blood
rushed back when he straightened them. The pain in his arm had
settled into a dull ache. He pushed back into the seat and reached
out, fumbling for Danielle's hand in the darkness, trying to pull
her across to him.
"Danielle, sit with me for a while." Yes, he wanted
her, but with the day catching up with him big-time, a repeat
performance was out of the question. The spirit was very willing.
The flesh, however, was hurting like hell. What he really needed,
more than anything, was sleep.
"Let me get you some more painkillers first." Her
hand slid from his. Turning, she groped for the edge of the seat.
"There's a flashlight on my keychain. You stay right there."
Exhausted didn't begin to cover it. With his eyes
half-closed, Taylor settled back into the seat. As weird days went,
this was a good one. Waking up in a police cell, feeling mildly
insulted they'd only assigned two stupid policemen to escort him
back to England. He knew why. He wasn't destined to reach England,
let alone stand trial. Somewhere along the way someone like him
would be waiting to tidy up this mess. A single bullet, or a fatal
accident. He knew the drill. But he wouldn't see it coming, and
that's what he'd wanted. This morning he'd said goodbye to life,
resigned to his decision and stepped out into the unknown.
Taylor drifted into sleep, mumbling a prayer of
thanks to no god in particular. Even if they caught him tomorrow,
he cherished this extra day. Not as empty as he'd imagined, nor as
hopeless. With that thought, he could almost die a happy man.
* * * *
The cabin stank of lovemaking and hot, sticky bodies.
Danielle felt for the small flashlight on her keychain and located
the wet-wipes in her carry-on. Taylor would need one too, and those
painkillers. He must be desperate for them, poor thing. She'd paid
his broken arm no heed when they'd made love. So caught up in
taking what she'd wanted the pain hadn't crossed her mind.
Hell, it had been a frenzy of need and want. A
desperate struggle to get as close to each other as possible.
Scary. If she felt like this with him a few feet away, how would it
be when he'd disappeared from her life?
She'd been certain she wanted him to run, but now
wasn't so sure. How selfish could she get? With a pang, she noticed
the ring, the two crosses, a billfold, littering the cabin floor
along with the rest of the condoms. Thrown down with no regard to
the dignity of the dead passengers. Lighting her way with the small
flashlight, she gathered them up and replaced them in the bag, all
except two of the condoms, an apology on her lips.
This wasn't only about what she wanted. So much more
was at stake. Taylor had to leave and knowing that made tonight
more important than ever. It could be their only night
together.
Rooting through her carry-on, she quickly pulled out
the wipes, painkillers and the bottle of water and in the thin
thread of light, made her way back to the seat.
Taylor was fast asleep, leaning into the corner of
the seat, his features relaxed, looking almost peaceful. She placed
the painkillers on
work out what I did to deserve it, though."
Taylor tolerated the pain in his arm because to move
now would look like a rejection. Danielle rested her chin on his
shoulder, keeping very still. Apart from the occasional sniff, she
remained silent, absorbing his words. Both of them way past the
need to question any of this.
Accept it . In a life so empty, any crumb of
happiness was a bonus. Only now did he realise how starved of
happiness he'd been.
"Let's get a bit more comfy, shall we?"
Danielle lifted her head from his shoulder. "Oh,
Taylor, I'm hurting you." She shifted back and levered herself
awkwardly onto the seat behind her. "Thank you," she said. "I don't
have words for it, either. I wish I did. I really wish I did."
Her mouth, so gentle on his, her tongue delicately
outlining his lips, making him want her all over again.
Needle-sharp pain shot through his legs as the blood
rushed back when he straightened them. The pain in his arm had
settled into a dull ache. He pushed back into the seat and reached
out, fumbling for Danielle's hand in the darkness, trying to pull
her across to him.
"Danielle, sit with me for a while." Yes, he wanted
her, but with the day catching up with him big-time, a repeat
performance was out of the question. The spirit was very willing.
The flesh, however, was hurting like hell. What he really needed,
more than anything, was sleep.
"Let me get you some more painkillers first." Her
hand slid from his. Turning, she groped for the edge of the seat.
"There's a flashlight on my keychain. You stay right there."
Exhausted didn't begin to cover it. With his eyes
half-closed, Taylor settled back into the seat. As weird days went,
this was a good one. Waking up in a police cell, feeling mildly
insulted they'd only assigned two stupid policemen to escort him
back to England. He knew why. He wasn't destined to reach England,
let alone stand trial. Somewhere along the way someone like him
would be waiting to tidy up this mess. A single bullet, or a fatal
accident. He knew the drill. But he wouldn't see it coming, and
that's what he'd wanted. This morning he'd said goodbye to life,
resigned to his decision and stepped out into the unknown.
Taylor drifted into sleep, mumbling a prayer of
thanks to no god in particular. Even if they caught him tomorrow,
he cherished this extra day. Not as empty as he'd imagined, nor as
hopeless. With that thought, he could almost die a happy man.
* * * *
The cabin stank of lovemaking and hot, sticky bodies.
Danielle felt for the small flashlight on her keychain and located
the wet-wipes in her carry-on. Taylor would need one too, and those
painkillers. He must be desperate for them, poor thing. She'd paid
his broken arm no heed when they'd made love. So caught up in
taking what she'd wanted the pain hadn't crossed her mind.
Hell, it had been a frenzy of need and want. A
desperate struggle to get as close to each other as possible.
Scary. If she felt like this with him a few feet away, how would it
be when he'd disappeared from her life?
She'd been certain she wanted him to run, but now
wasn't so sure. How selfish could she get? With a pang, she noticed
the ring, the two crosses, a billfold, littering the cabin floor
along with the rest of the condoms. Thrown down with no regard to
the dignity of the dead passengers. Lighting her way with the small
flashlight, she gathered them up and replaced them in the bag, all
except two of the condoms, an apology on her lips.
This wasn't only about what she wanted. So much more
was at stake. Taylor had to leave and knowing that made tonight
more important than ever. It could be their only night
together.
Rooting through her carry-on, she quickly pulled out
the wipes, painkillers and the bottle of water and in the thin
thread of light, made her way back to the seat.
Taylor was fast asleep, leaning into the corner of
the seat, his features relaxed, looking almost peaceful. She placed
the painkillers on
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