Page 82 of Hunting Pretty

I couldfeelhim behind me. I couldn’t hear him, though. All I could hear was my ragged desperate breaths and the booming thud of my heart pounding in my ears.

Which made it worse.

So I didn’t hear him coming.

A hand came out of nowhere and clawed at my breast, yanking me back by my jacket.

“Gotcha.”

I panicked, my limbs lashing like I’d been caught in a trap. I slipped my jacket free, colliding with the shelf at the momentum before scrambling away.

“Run, rabbit, run,” he called after me, mocking me.

Chest heaving, I ran down yet another long dark aisle. I turned left and right, weaving through the library, praying I’d run into someone or that I’d find the exit.

His tall broad dark silhouette emerged from a corner and into my path. “You’re not trying hard enough.”

How was he so fast? How did he get in front of me?

I skidded to a halt before turning and running the way I’d come.

But it felt like he was everywhere.

A hand shot out in the dark and grabbed my wrist. He spun me around into his iron chest. I inhaled his musk, amber and sweat and something delicate, something…familiar.

“It’s like youwantme to catch you, rabbit.”

I shoved him away and he let me go, the shadows swallowing him whole.

It made me dizzy as he chased me in and out of the stacks, hair whipping behind me, legs burning. I glanced over my shoulder and the flash of his smile at the end of the aisle terrified me, because I realized he was right.

Deep down, I wanted him to catch me.

A memory, something buried deep down, flashed in front of my eyes.

The cold dewy leaves caressed at my hot cheeks as I pushed through them, unable to suppress a laugh.

I knew the noise might give me away, but I couldn’t help myself. The idea of being caught was too exciting.

It was too fun to run wild through the rows of sweet night-blooming jasmine.

I caught glimpses of him through the tangle of dark hellebores.

A wicked grin among the pretty black pearl lilies.

Dangerous azure eyes that watched me through the plump black hollyhocks.

The dirt beneath my Mary Janes muffled my fleeing steps from him. But it meant he couldn’t be heard either.

The knowledge that he could fall on me at any moment and I’d not be aware of it till it was too late made me want to scream.

But I didn’t. Because the fear exhilarated me. Made me feel heat in places I was told were naughty, which only made me want to feel it more.

I could imagine him on top of me when he caught me as the ground soaked my back. His hair falling into his face as he looked down at me. The cascading crimson wisteria like chandeliers over our heads as we panted from the chase.

I laughed again, because the truth was…

I wanted him to catch me.

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