He scrambled to grab her, and thankfully was able to wrap both arms around her before she could hit the ground. She grasped his arms. Teetering, he wondered for a moment if he would fall himself, but he quickly gained his footing and straightened, bringing her with him.
Finally, he was able to peer into the woman’s face.Lyndsey!Of all people, why did it have to be her that he bumped into... and was still holding as he gazed into her eyes? And why were her hands still clutching his arms as if she was afraid to let go?
“Oh,” she said breathless, “I’m so sorry for—”
“No, it’s my fault entirely,” he cut her off. “I shouldn’t have been running.”
Slowly, her body relaxed, and oddly enough, she didn’t try to get out of his arms. And yet, neither was he making any attempt to release her.
From a distance, he heard Aunt Beatrice calling, “Lord William.” Inwardly, he groaned. He couldn’t let her find him. But more importantly, he couldnotlet her find him with Lyndsey.
FOUR
Lyndsey was breathless, and it had nothing to do with almost being run over by a man in a hurry, or that she would have stained her best gown if she’d fallen. But it did have something to do with the intimate embrace Adrian currently had her in. Never had a man held her so closely, his large hands braced against her back, as he stared into the depths of her eyes.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried to bring moisture to her suddenly dry mouth. But it wasn’t helping as she was still in his arms. Her heart beat out of control, and she wondered why he continued to hold her.
Confusion flickered in his eyes as he gradually released her and pulled away. At least she could breathe better now, however, her body felt as if he’d taken the warmth from her. A chill passed through her and she rubbed her arms.
“Mr. Dorsey, what—”
“I hope you don’t mind,” he hastily interrupted while glancing behind him, “but I can’t be here.”
“What? I don’t understand. You can’t be...where?”
Grumbling, he grasped her hand. “Come with me into the kitchen.”
Not waiting for her answer, he headed for the door where she’d first seen him, with Lyndsey stumbling to keep up with him. He opened the door and gently pushed her inside, quickly following before he quietly closed it. Leaning his ear against the wood, his breaths came out fast and ragged.
She glanced around the kitchen. One lamp was on, but turned down low. The air smelled like stew. They must have had beef for their evening meal.
“Um... Mr. Dorsey?” she asked softly. “Why are we here?”
He growled and snapped away from the door, taking her hand, once again.
“Someone is following me, and I’m trying to hide because I don’t want to be found.”
