Page 107 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
“Coming back?” she said. “Are ye saying what I think ye’re saying?”
“Indeed, I am.” With that, he turned from the carriage.
And he ran.
The downpour had intensified as the wind picked up speed and the sky darkened to a stormy gray. Wind-driven drops of rain slapped against his face. But he didn’t give a damn.
He heard the sound of his boots pounding against the cobbles. He felt the cool, heavy drops penetrate his layers of clothing, soaking him to the skin. As he pictured Belle in his mind’s eye, he quickened his pace, even as he dodged a carriage and a man walking an exceedingly small dog. She was all that mattered. He had to get to her. He couldn’t spend another day—and night—without her.
*
Belle impatiently tappedthe tip of her umbrella against the floor of the train station. She’d only been waiting an hour or so, but her nerves were on edge. And she was eager to get going. It wasdifficult to leave London as it was, but delaying the inevitable would only worsen the pain.
“It seems appropriate that even the sky is cross today,” she said, turning to Ellie. “This dreary rain rather fits my mood.”
Her friend looked up from happily knitting a scarf she would likely never wear. “Mine as well,” she said. “I do hate to see you go, Belle. It’s a pity I cannot travel with you, but my aunt—not the one in Paris, but the one who’s heading off to Egypt—is in need of a companion. With any luck, I’ll discover an archaeologist of my own on the expedition.”
“I don’t doubt you’ll find yourself a handsome explorer.”
“I do hope so,” Ellie said, her tone a bit dreamy.
“Take care, my friend,” she said. “And promise me you’ll soon come to New York.”
“Of course,” Ellie said. “I look forward to visiting the Metropolitan Museum.”
“You’ll love it. The collections are—”
Belle saw him then. The sight took her breath—and by extension, her ability to speak—away.
“Are you alright?” Ellie asked.
“Yes, I do believe I am.” She stared at the man who’d walked into the station—or perhaps, sloshed into the place wearing rain-soaked shoes was a better description. My goodness, he looked as if he’d been in the rain for far too long. “Goodness,” she murmured.
Leaping to her feet for a better look, her gaze locked with his. Her eyes were not deceiving her. The man was, indeed, Jon.
Drenched. Soaked to the skin. And utterly irresistible.
The straight, dark strands of his hair were plastered to his head while raindrops beaded his forehead, his cheeks, his face. His wet clothing clung to his lean, muscular frame like a second skin.
Oh, my.Her pulse raced. She dragged in a breath, as if that might calm her. There were many reasons why Jon might be at the station. But only one would make her heart sing.
“Good heavens. Why in the world...” Ellie made a sound that was a cross between a giggle and a gasp. “Such a pity Macie isn’t here to capture this moment with her camera. I doubt we’ll ever again see anything like it.”
Curious onlookers scrunched their foreheads and hiked their brows at the sight. Undeterred by the questioning stares, Jon cut through the crowd on a direct path, his gaze set firmly on his destination. Onher.
Belle’s heartbeat sped up as Jon came to stand before her. He didn’t reach out. Didn’t touch her. Didn’t even take her hand. Instead, he searched her face, seeming to seek an answer to a question he had not yet asked.
“You’re still here.” He sounded both a bit out of breath and relieved.
“Hello, Jon,” she said. “Might I ask why you look as though you’ve been walking in the rain?”
“I wasn’t walking,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I was running.”
“Has something happened?” Her gaze trailed down to his soaked shoes. “Something urgent?”
“Extremely urgent.” His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “I realized I’d left something unfinished—a matter of the utmost importance.”
“I see,” she said, steeling herself. It was quite possible, after all, that thismatter of utmost importancehad nothing to do with what was in his heart.
