Fugitive Fiancée Read Online Free

dirt and the gravel and the scrub brush they’ll be ruined in no time.”
    She shrugged and placed her feet on the floor. “I didn’t have time to change. I left in rather a hurry.”
    She expected him to ask her why, but instead heswept the bread crumbs off the coffee table into his empty bowl. Then he looked at her. “Finish your stew.”
    â€œAren’t you the least bit curious about me?” she asked, ignoring his latest order.
    â€œNo.” He settled back in the armchair and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve learned the hard way that curiosity can be a dangerous thing. Now, do you need a ride back into Austin, or did you drive out here?”
    â€œI drove.” She licked the last few bread crumbs off her fingers. “At least, until I ran out of gas. Then I walked.”
    He arched a brow. “Walked? In those shoes?”
    â€œOf course not. I took them off and carried them.”
    He leaned forward. “You mean you walked barefoot on these gravel roads? Exactly how far did you go?”
    She shrugged. “Five or six miles. I lost count.”
    He rose and moved toward her. Then he knelt in front of the sofa and picked up her foot. She winced as he carefully removed her right shoe.
    â€œDamn,” he breathed. Beneath the shredded sheer stocking, raw blisters and tiny cuts covered the sole of her foot. Without another word, he carefully pulled the stocking away from her skin, then ripped it apart with his powerful hands. It split all the way to her knee.
    Mimi looked down to see that her pink pedicured toenails were torn, dirty and bleeding. Her head spun, and she reached out to grab his broad shoulder. She hated acting weak in front of him, but at the moment she was too busy trying not to pass out to care.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” he asked, his callused hands cradling her foot.
    â€œNothing. It’s silly.”
    â€œTell me.”
    As Mimi struggled to remain conscious, she thought about all the money her father had wasted on doctors and even a hypnotist to help her overcome this ridiculous reaction to the sight of blood. Especially her own. But nothing had helped. In fact, her father’s insistence that she conquer this weakness had only seemed to make it worse.
    At last, she took a deep breath and focused her attention on his face instead of her foot. “The sight of blood makes me a little woozy. In fact, I have to wax my legs instead of shaving them because I’ll pass out if I nick myself with a razor.”
    Heat flooded her face when she realized how inappropriate it was to tell him that intimate little detail. Especially now that his thumb was absently stroking the sleek, bare skin of her ankle.
    She swallowed hard at his sensuous touch, wanting it both to stop and to go on forever. “I…you…I mean, this really isn’t necessary.”
    â€œDon’t look,” he ordered as he turned his attention to her left foot.
    She squeezed her eyes shut, but she couldn’t stop the small gasp that left her lips when he tugged off her other shoe.
    â€œDoes that hurt?”
    â€œNot really,” she breathed, warily opening her eyes.
    â€œLiar,” he said softly. Then he stood, turned and tossed her shoes in the fireplace.
    She watched in mute horror as her five-hundred-dollar shoes went up in flames. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    â€œI’m doing you a favor.”
    â€œBut…those are the only shoes I have with me.”
    â€œMy sister Shelby keeps a pair of boots here that she only wears when she comes out to ride.” His gaze flicked over her. “Might not be a perfect fit, but you two look about the same size.”
    â€œThat’s not the point. You had no right to dispose of my property. How would you like it if I—” she motioned wildly toward the large picture window “—burned down your barn!”
    He arched a brow. “Is that what