Read Run Among Thorns for Free Online Page A

promise.
    Jenny was in trouble.
    She had killed three men, been imprisoned by some powerful organisation that she didn’t understand, pushed by them to the point of collapse.
    But now she was in trouble. Only now. Because physical wounds, and even mental ones, would heal. And true freedom couldn’t be taken, because it was kept deep in your heart. But her own stupid, headstrong, self-destructive desires could take her apart every time. However much she didn’t want to be attracted to a man like this, she already was, drawn like she’d always been, to the stronger character, the dynamic personality. Like a moth to a flame.
    He was going to burn her up.
    Despite her efforts, she blushed, defiantly lifting her eyes to meet his again.
    He was still looking at her, his eyes moving over her flushed skin. He registered that flush with a twitch of one eyebrow, nothing more. Still he said nothing. The silence was a mocking audience to her heartbeat, hammering in her throat, almost choking her. She clamped her teeth down, hard, against the impulse to demand he say something, anything, and dropped her gaze to the table.
    Her mind stuttered wildly, trying to take in the fact that she had just provoked the man who held her in his power so completely, more completely than he even guessed. Trying not to think about what he might do now in retaliation.
    He picked up the empty milk jug and she flinched, she couldn’t help it. But he simply moved to the counter, filled it again from the carton there, and returned to his side of the table, setting the jug back on the table.
    Unconsciously, she relaxed a little, expecting him to sit down.
    When McAllister moved again, she nearly screamed. In slow, measured steps, he came round behind her. Jenny could hear him breathing, could feel the hair stir on the top of her head. She could smell him, too, a scent that made her think of heat and strength. And milk. Full cream.
    Oh, God.
    He leaned forward over her, his chest pressing into her back. She was still trying to deal with that sensation when he reached over her shoulder with his right arm and picked up the box of cornflakes. His other hand appeared at the left of her vision, reaching for her bowl. If she looked to either side, she could see the heave of his biceps, inches from her cheek. Jenny held her breath.
    His heat surrounded her, leached into her through the skin of her back. She was barely aware of him filling her bowl with cornflakes, pouring milk over them, setting the bowl down again in front of her.
    With difficulty she focused on the spoonful of cereal he presented to her mouth, wondering if it was safe to eat, wondering what game he was trying to play. Suddenly he reared back a little, and she felt the fingers of his left hand sliding into her hair. They tightened, gripping her hair, digging into her scalp, levering her head back. She gasped, outraged, and as her mouth dropped open, he deftly tipped the spoonful of cornflakes into her mouth.
    Jenny instinctively closed her mouth. She felt the cold spoon against her chin as he scooped up one dribble of milk as if she were a baby. Rather than choke, she chewed.
    His big hand released its painful grip and smoothed its way out of her hair, lingering for a moment at the base of her neck. A tremor shook her for a moment. She told herself it was fear.
    Then he put the empty spoon in her limp hand, peeled himself off her, and turned his back to walk through to the bedroom.
    “Eat your breakfast, Jenny,” he said.
    Kier watched her from the bedroom as he put on a fresh shirt.
    He was conscious of a lingering anger over the incident with the milk, not just because he hadn’t planned on a milk bath today, but because for an instant she had taken control of the situation.
    McAllister hadn’t anticipated the lithe throw. She’d moved so fast he’d registered the flash of her arm at about the same time he registered the cold milk on his skin. And he had good reactions. Very good.
    But hers