First You Run by Roxanne St. Claire Read Free Book Online Page B

their language. But you were a policeman in Tasmania, right?”
    “Sort of. Special Ops. It’s a subset of the Tassie police, specially trained. Would your rags be in the kitchen?”
    “No.” She stood and indicated the bathroom door. “I’ll get something for you.”
    He stayed where he was as she walked away, the angle not giving him a view into the little room where she’d disappeared. But after a few minutes, he followed. “You okay, Miranda?”
    He found her leaning against the sink, a wicker cabinet open next to her, but she was gripping the porcelain and staring into the mirror. From behind, he caught her gaze in the glass and saw raw terror in her deep blue eyes. She took a slow, shallow breath, her jaw quivering and her skin the shade of goat’s milk.
    Instantly, he grasped her shoulders to turn her to him. “What’s the matter?”
    “I’m having a panic attack.” She didn’t turn, her body rigid. She put a hand to her breastbone, and he could see a pulse throbbing in her neck. Her breaths were so superficial and fast they couldn’t possibly send any oxygen to her body.
    “I haven’t had…” Another ragged breath. “One…for a long…” And another. “Time.”
    “Okay, sweetheart. Relax.” He folded her in his arms and tried to hold her, but she remained stiff, a completely different woman from the one who melted with one kiss and responded to his touch with spirit and sensuality. “Are you prone to panic attacks?”
    “Not anymore.” She ground the words out as though just by saying them, she could stop whatever had taken hold of her. “Not since I moved here.”
    He eased her out of the bathroom. “I’ll get the cleanup work done later. Let’s get you to bed.”
    Her eyes flashed with more panic, but then she nodded, seeing the sense of the suggestion. “I do need to lie down. Once I deep-breathe, it’ll pass.”
    “Upstairs, right? Can you make it up the ladder? There you go.” He guided her toward the steps. “I’ll be right behind you.”
    He followed her up, holding her with one hand as she took the steep rungs one at a time. The tiny three-walled loft held only a full-size bed, a nightstand, and an armoire. Enough light seeped up from the room below that he didn’t bother with a lamp. He would have, under Plan A. But even Adrien Fletcher wasn’t enough of a larrikin to strip-search a panicked woman.
    He laid her on the bed and sat next to her, shushing and cooing to quiet her jitters. Her breathing steadier, she stayed on her back, her eyes closed. He stroked her hair, her arm, and held her hand, brushing the knuckles.
    Finally, she seemed at ease. “I can’t believe my good fortune in finding you tonight.”
    “I found you,” he said, hoping the truth would assuage the guilt that drop-kicked in his stomach. “And I’m happy to help you.”
    “You were right about not knowing what surprises life holds.”
    He threaded his fingers through hers. “That’s what makes it interesting.”
    “Or terrifying.” Her voice was rich with self-deprecation.
    “What are you terrified of, Miranda?” He slid down next to her, and she inched over to make room for him.
    “Before, everything. Now I’ve got it down to flying—though I’m no fan of small, dark spaces, either.”
    He propped himself on his elbow and studied her. “Why were you afraid of everything?
    “I told you my mother was overprotective. Consider that an understatement. I love her dearly, but she’s fragile and scared and did everything in her power to make me the same way. I was the little girl in a parka when it was sixty degrees out. I was the one not allowed to go to the amusement park for fear I’d fall off a roller coaster. I was the one who was home-schooled to keep me away from all the dangers that lurked in the locker room. She never wanted me to go anywhere or do anything or meet anyone.”
    “So you ran away to California.” To escape parents who not only created fear but lied to their