Run Among Thorns Read Online Free PDF

her as she approached the table.
    “Sit down,” he said.
    She hesitated. “I need to use the bathroom.”
    He looked up at her again, while bending to put spoons on the table. “There is no bathroom.”
    He had washed, though. His hair was damp, combed severely back from his broad forehead, but even as she watched, it was drying, springing back into a natural thick wave, the dark, almost black hair threaded through here and there with the tiniest bit of silver. She was suddenly aware of her hands hanging uselessly and awkwardly by her sides, and stuffed them in her pockets.
    She looked into his eyes, and found him watching her. Something inside her said, Uh-oh , but she tried to ignore it. His eyes were blue. Grey-blue, cold and impassive, but oddly stark and arresting. With a jolt she realised this was the first time she had really looked at him.
    Holding her gaze, he straightened. He was tall, she realised, mentally measuring against her brother, who was six foot one. McAllister was a shade taller, she thought, but broader, too, so it was hard to tell.
    There were lines on his face. Hard lines. Fanning beside his eyes, running from beside the arrogant curl of his nostrils to the corner of his mobile mouth. They gave his face a harshness that was strangely attractive, and added to the sense of power and menace she felt in his company.
    With something approaching panic, Jenny realised he was probably the most attractive man she’d ever been close to. For the moment, that was just another reason to hate him. The insistent pressure in her bladder brought her back to the issue at hand. She squared her shoulders.
    “If there’s no bathroom, show me a bucket, McAllister. I need the loo. Now.”
    He watched her for a moment more, making her wait, then went to the front door, fishing a key from his pocket. “Come with me,” he said, and she followed.
    The door was deadlocked, and he opened it, grabbing a red jacket from a hook beside the door, and putting it on before passing out of the cottage before her.
    It was still throwing it down, and she stood on the threshold, legs almost crossed, while he flipped up the hood on the expensive-looking waterproof jacket and watched her with impassive eyes.
    “Well?” he said.
    It was the water running off the eaves in a tinkling steady stream that finally defeated her. She ran out into the rain, gasping as its cold deluge battered her, following the figure that walked ahead of her like a red beacon.
    As she had expected, he stopped at the rickety hut and held the door as she rushed past him and stood shivering and dripping on wooden floor.
    “You have ten minutes. Then I’ll come and get you,” was all he said, shutting the door on her. She heard the sound of a bolt being drawn at the same time as she registered that there was no lock on her side of the door.
    That thought had her standing there for a while, considering the possibility of him walking in on her. Then she gave herself a shake. She had ten minutes, so she’d better use them.
    After taking care of pressing business, Jenny saw there was a bowl of water on a stand, and a speckled mirror hanging on a nail above it. Keeping her head down, she scrubbed her face in the cold water, drying it on the least grubby part of her jumper. Glancing up without thinking, she caught sight of her reflection.
    Not me , she thought. Please don’t let it be me. He’ll have me for breakfast .
    Jenny took a deep breath that shook despite her best efforts and tried to reclaim the logical, sensible mind that had been her best companion through bad times and good. Her emotions … well, they had let her down more times than she could tell. That wholehearted, free and easy side of her had her throwing her heart into the breach and laying herself open to hurt so easily. Jenny feared it with all the logic she could lay claim to. She knew she needed to rely more on her sensible, reasonable, intelligent mind.
    She used it now to try to find