Read Online What Price Love? by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page B

she rode a great deal lighter than he, but the black was like its rider—relentless. It came on, heavy hooves steadily eating up her lead.
    Leaning low over the mare’s neck, she urged the horse on, streaking across the lush green. The wind tugged at her curls, sent them rippling over her shoulders. Shifting her weight as she swung arounda stand of trees, she tried to think of what she should say when he caught up with her.
    Would he wonder why she’d fled? Would he guess her real reason—that she wanted him far from the string she’d been watching? But no—their last clash, especially those moments behind the wood, were reason enough for her to flee him. And he knew that, damn him! She recalled all too well that instant before his friend had arrived when he’d decided to try a certain method of persuasion that, to her immense shock, had had her heart standing still.
    With a peculiar, never-before-felt fear, and an unholy anticipation.
    No. She had a good reason not to want to fall into his hands again.
    But she didn’t want him thinking about that last string. Remembering it enough to go back later and check. She had to convince him it was just another string like all the others she’d viewed, not the one she was searching for.
    She glanced behind her. He was even closer than she’d guessed. Stifling a curse, she looked ahead—she was rapidly running out of Heath. The stands of trees were getting larger; she was heading into more wooded terrain.
    He was going to catch up with her soon, but she would rather any catching was done on her terms. As for making sure he didn’t focus on that last string…she might not want to fall into his arms, but there was one weapon she possessed that, in her experience, was all but guaranteed to rattle his brain, to fog his mind and cloud his memories.
    She wasn’t keen—wielding that weapon was neither smart nor safe—but desperation beckoned.
    The last thing she wanted, the very last thing Rus needed, was Mr. Caxton, Keeper of the Breeding Register, calling at Lord Cromarty’s stables.
    Dragging in a breath, she gathered the mare in, let Caxton bring his mount up on her right flank.
    She picked her moment, swerved hard and sharp, swinging around a clump of trees large enough to qualify as a wood. The black was less maneuverable; the rapid shift in direction left him careening on.
    Curses erupted behind her as Caxton wrestled the beast around,but then she whipped around the wood, streaked along its rear, rounded it again, returning to where she’d started; by then he’d followed and was on the other side.
    Hauling the mare to a halt, she slid from the saddle, snagged the reins on a branch, grabbed her skirts, and pelted into the wood.
    She raced through the cool shadows, grateful it was reasonably clear under the trees. She found what she was looking for roughly in the wood’s center, a huge old tree with a wide, thick bole. Panting, she whisked around behind it, drew her skirts in, and leaned back against the trunk.
    She closed her eyes, fought to catch her breath. Caxton would either find her, or he wouldn’t.
    The minutes stretched. She couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her heart. There was light enough to see, sunbeams lancing through the canopy to dapple the ground; the air was cool, sweet with the scent of wood and leaves.
    Her heart slowed, steadied. She strained to hear. All about seemed still. Unthreatening.
    A twig snapped, close, on the other side of the tree.
    A second later he loomed at her shoulder. Real, larger than life, twice as handsome. Sinfully beautiful and darkly dangerous.
    He looked down at her, leaning against the tree, her hands gripping her skirts, then arched his brows, arrogantly unimpressed.
    She didn’t stop to think. Straightening, she raised one hand, reached for his nape, came up on her toes, and drew his lips to hers.
    And kissed him.
    Dillon’s thoughts