Stolen Bride. Sally Carr
towards him, then turned around. In a voice as impersonal as she could make it, she said, ‘You’ll have to undo me. I can’t reach all the catches.’
There was a short sigh and then silence, but she knew that he was standing right behind her. It wasn’t the feel of his body heat, or the soft brush of his breath on the nape of her neck, but something about his presence she simply couldn’t explain. Something she had never before experienced. And as his fingers began to free each cunningly hidden hook and eye, fleetingly touching her skin, she drew in a sharp breath.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked softly, ‘did I stick a pin in you by mistake?’
‘No,’ she replied unsteadily.
‘There,’ he said, his voice almost too controlled as he freed the last hook.
She turned quickly. ‘Finn—’ She was so close to him, he was almost embracing her. ‘Why...’ She swallowed. ‘Why are you doing this, really? Why did you step in like that?’
He said nothing, but his arms closed about her, and he held her hazel eyes with his. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to rest the palms of her hands on his shirt. She could feel the play of his muscles under the cotton, and wondered what his chest looked like without... She shook her head. This was ridiculous. Why couldn’t she get a grip on reality? It must be some sort of emotional reaction to everything that had happened, she thought. But she didn’t pull away. Somehow, inexplicably, she didn’t want to.
His fingers brushed her cheek. ‘You are a very beautiful woman, Cara,’ he said softly.
‘That’s not an answer,’ she accused, determined to hang on to the last shreds of her self-control, in spite of the fact that it felt so right, so comforting, to be held by him.
There were a few faint freckles on his high cheekbones. ‘What sort of answer would you like?’ he murmured, taking the pins from her carefully styled dark gold hair and watching it cascade thickly down her back.
‘A sensible answer,’ she said, trying hard and failing to look away.
‘Like this?’ he asked, as he bent his head and kissed her.
Her body tautened at the feel of his lips on hers, coaxing, flattering, not at all like Luca’s. She pulled away at that thought, but Finn’s hands were warm on her back and, astonished at herself, she relaxed.
His lips pressed harder, became more demanding, his fingers trailing down her spine, and Cara reached up to touch his hair, the palm of her hand sliding over his jaw, the faint roughness of his cheek. This was an experience she wanted to go on forever.
And then he stopped. His hands dropped to his sides and he looked at her and smiled grimly. ‘Some wedding this is turning out to be.’
It was as if he had broken a spell. Her face flaming, she pulled back, and he let her go. ‘I don’t know why I let you do that,’ she snapped, snatching away her hands.
His fingers imprisoned one of her wrists and he lifted it to his mouth, kissing the pulse point, holding her once more with his eyes.
‘Let me go,’ she demanded, knowing he could feel the blood thundering through her veins.
‘I wouldn’t move too fast if I were you, princess,’ he remarked. ‘That dress is staying up now by sheer willpower.’
‘I said, let me go,’ she snarled.
With a little smile he dropped her hand, and after a mock bow, he turned and walked to the edge of the trees.
Cara breathed out in one gusty sigh. Making sure he had his back to her, she let the dress drop to her feet. She ran to his suitcase, her high heels wobbling perilously in the soft earth. With a muttered oath, she kicked them off, knelt and flipped the catches on the case, then began rummaging desperately through his clothes.
‘There’s a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of shorts at the bottom,’ said Finn.
She looked up to find him staring at her. ‘Go away!’ she screamed.
‘Cara,’ he said gently. ‘We’re not exactly in the fitting rooms of Saks Fifth Avenue. Get the damned clothes and get in the car.’ Blushing furiously, she did as he said, pulling on the shirt and running to the passenger seat as he stuffed the dress, the wreath and her shoes into his case.
‘Attagirl,’ he said, sliding into the driving seat and taking a good look around. ‘Just getting dusk now. It’ll be fully dark in a few minutes, and with luck no one will notice us at all on the autostrada.’
Cara stared at him, the memory of what they had done suddenly becoming horribly real. ‘Luca’s men will see us get on,’ she whispered. ‘They’ll be watching for us when we go through the toll booth.’
He glanced at her. ‘We’re not going through the toll booth,’ he said at last, starting the car and driving onto the road.
‘But there is no other way,’ she objected.
Finn shook his head. ‘This road leads to the con-struction site for the new section of the autostrada,’ he said equably. ‘I was looking at it yesterday, funnily enough, and it’s just about completed. We just get on it, drive along till we hit the main autostrada and then, voilà.’
‘Are you French?’ she asked after a short pause, thinking for the first time of that strange lilt to his otherwise perfect English. ‘Because you are certainly mad.’
‘Irish American, actually,’ he said mildly.
‘Even worse,’ she replied glumly, shrugging irritably as he glanced sidewise at her.
‘Have you any better ideas?’ he inquired.
She shook her head.
‘Well, then,’ he said. ‘At least this one has the advantage of surprise. No one will be expecting us to use this route, and when we get on the autostrada we just keep on it till we hit the French border.’
‘Uncle Pancrazio is a very powerful man,’ she told him. ‘And so is Luca. They have contacts everywhere, and they’re not going to stop until they find us.’
‘You think we should give up?’ Finn asked softly.
Cara clasped her hands together tightly. ‘I don’t know why you stepped in like that this afternoon,’ she began. ‘I don’t believe it was anything to do with your stupid book. But maybe you should just drop me off here and get away on your own. The risk is too great for you. I...I’ll go back to my family and apologise.’
‘And marry Luca,’ Finn added softly.
‘He probably won’t want me now,’ she said shakily. ‘Anyway, I can stand up for myself. Don’t bother about me.’
Finn screeched to a stop among the piled-up building materials on the road site. Cara put her hands out to stop herself from hitting the windscreen, then looked at him. ‘What did you do that for?’ she demanded.
Finn was glaring at her, and she sat up straight. ‘Well?’ she asked, trying hard and failing to stare him down.
‘If you think I went through all that this afternoon just so you could turn yourself into some sort of sacrificial virgin on my behalf,’ he snarled, ‘you better think again.’
‘It’s the only reasonable way out,’ she said furiously.
‘All this talk of escape to England is just so much hot air. There’s no way they’re not going to catch us.’
He stared hard at her. ‘Just tell me, once and for all,’ he said grimly. ‘Do you or do you not want to marry Luca?’
Cara moved her hands impatiently, pleadingly. ‘Of course I don’t want to marry him. I told you the truth. I just got led along by degrees until I found myself right on the edge of the chasm. But the price you’ll pay for pulling me back is too great.’
‘What