Page 19 of Stolen Temptation (Irish Kings #3)

Kiara

Wind grazes my body. I resist the chill in the air, refusing to shiver.

One wrong move and it’s bye-bye, Kiara .

Digging my hands and feet into the crevices between bricks and window ledges, I call on all my past tree-climbing experience to scale this building in reverse, advancing myself one foothold at a time toward the earth below.

Without looking down.

Free-climbing demands all my attention.

One quick glimpse at the ground could give me a vertigo spell. Then, my daring escape would turn into my daring death in about three seconds flat.

My heart pounds with a force that reverberates through my torso. It’s a fight to stay focused on the bigger picture.

Getting down is only step one. Arguably, the easiest part of the escape plan.

What I need to concentrate on is what to do once my feet hit the grass.

From the window in my room, now half a story above me, I was able to survey the grounds from up high. Giant hedges and a retainer wall surround the sprawling property, sealing off the entire place from the public.

There must be a limited number of authorized entrances, all of which will be heavily guarded and surveilled, if this place is anything like the De Luca estate.

Even though it’s an absolutely insane idea, I really think my best chance of breaking free is scaling the hedge wall, then climbing over the retainer wall behind it and maneuvering down the other side. There, I’m praying I’ll find myself back in normal society.

Any get-away plan beats sitting up there like a model prisoner, just waiting for Rory, Finn, and whoever else to decide my fate.

The sheer arrogance. Even Enzo knew to put me five stories up on the estate. I may look small and dainty, but I’ve got the athleticism of any marathon runner and the eye of an artist.

I catch the fine little details most people miss.

And if the Kings didn’t want me to flee, they should have handcuffed me to that bed.

Sometimes, people underestimating me works in my favor.

Rory’s hazel eyes blaze in the darkness of my mind.

After spending all morning and afternoon talking to him, I almost felt weird leaving my bedroom prison without telling him goodbye.

Which is absurd.

Now is the best time for me to leave. Because Rory thinks he’s gotten to the bottom of things. He thinks he’s read the story all the way to the end, that I’m just some art mule the De Luca family has exploited.

He has no idea that I’m actually part of it . I watched the misunderstanding take shape in his mind, and I didn’t do anything to try and rectify it.

God forbid Rory ever figure out who I really am. That’s the kind of information that would get me locked up in the actual dungeon.

Or wherever the hell the Gallaghers keep their enemies in this massive place.

Almost there.

Climbing down a shadowy side of the building, my brain goes into painter mode. Comparing the outside of the mansion to what I observed earlier is going to help me figure out where I am and where the best place to stage the rest of my exit will be.

I just hope I don’t run into any armed guards, electric fences…or dogs.

Lush, decorative trees rise around me.

I’m here. I’ve reached the earth.

With a huff, I release my grip on the wall and drop safely to the ground.

My fingers cramp from the strain, and my muscles ache, but I managed. I climbed to the bottom using nothing but pure adrenaline and prayers.

With my hands resting on my hips, I pause to gather my bearings.

Time to get the hell out of here, once and for all.

“Out for a little exercise, are you?” a low, familiar voice asks.

I yelp and whip around.

Rory stands with his thick arms folded and irritation simmering on his face.

My heart thunders in my ears. Despite knowing about the cameras, I’d hoped for more time. I figured if I moved quickly, I could disappear before anyone noticed.

Three seconds eek past with neither of us moving.

Then I bolt.

Tearing left, I put all the many hours I’ve spent running on a treadmill to use and sprint away from the mansion. Rory’s heavy footfalls pound after me like a monster’s in a horror film.

“Don’t make me chase you,” he growls after me.

Hell’s bells, he sounds pissed. I run faster.

Miraculously, I recognize where we are. I climbed down near the mansion entrance, where Rory brought me in. Up ahead, I spot the staircase that leads to the estate gardens.

If I reach the labyrinth with enough lead, I can lose Rory there.

I book it down the stairs, clinging to the handrail for dear life so my momentum doesn’t lead to a faceplant.

At the bottom, I sprint straight ahead. Rory’s voice chases me.

“Trying to escape me is pointless.” His tone remains serial-killer cool, only I hear the sharp edge lurking underneath.

Shit. If he catches me, he may very well murder me.

I assumed I would have more of a head start than this. How did he figure out what I was up to so quickly? My plan to be halfway over the retainer wall before anyone realized I was gone is all shot to hell.

Pumping my legs faster, I fly through the entrance to the labyrinth. The hunter green walls carry the aroma of rosemary. If I don’t hurry, that might be the very last scent I ever smell.

I barrel through the hedge maze erratically.

I need to find a part of the labyrinth that hugs the retainer wall enclosing the entire property. The first hedge I find with that description, I’m climbing.

Like my life depends on it.

Hopefully, Rory will continue to underestimate me and not call the guards for assistance right away. Though I could see him choosing to toy with me for a while, like a cat with a mouse.

I break right down a corridor and nearly scream when Rory’s muscle-bound form leaps out of nowhere directly into my path. I skid to a halt a few feet from him.

Heart somersaulting in my chest, I back away as he saunters forward. His furious eyes drill into my face, causing my skin to vibrate with anxiety.

Forget cat and mouse. I’m a deer, and Rory’s the stalking panther.

I know if I take my eyes off him, even for a second, he’ll pounce.

“Stop,” I warn. “Don’t come any closer.”

I widen my steps as I retreat, but he closes the distance anyway.

“No matter where you are, Kiara…I can and will find you.” Rory quickens his pace, breaking out into a jog.

Panic overrides logic. I sprint in the opposite direction, zipping around corners even faster than before.

The sound of his footfalls fades, but my nerves continue to bleat.

He won’t give up. Just because I can’t hear him behind me anymore doesn’t mean he’s not there.

My body throbs with the strain of sprinting. The paranoia that comes with being pursued eats away at my focus and resolve.

Running on the balls of my feet, I take the next corner up ahead, curving around to the left?—

Sudden impact knocks the breath right out of me.

A body slams into mine, déjà vu dousing me like a summer storm.

We crash to the ground. Rory spins us midair to bear the brunt of the landing. Despite his maneuver, my skull thunks against the cobblestone. Pain swims through my head.

Damn, that hurt.

In the next breath, Rory reverses our positions and pins me to the ground with his big body.

By the time my eyes flick open, the splotches at the corner of my vision and the pain have begun to dissipate. Rory’s stupidly handsome face hovers above mine. His shoulders rise and fall as he catches his breath.

Once the pain subsides, I become more aware of our intimate position. Rory’s hot like a furnace, and my skin soaks up his heat like a sponge. His hard thighs cage mine. His face and chest hover inches away.

And his pelvis…

Dear lord. My mouth goes dry when I notice his pelvis pressing into mine. Something thick and hard nestles between my thighs, and a rush of desire floods me.

He’s aroused.

It’s unexpected. Potent. Too much.

Rory on top of me, breathing heavily the way he did after we kissed…with his body trapping mine…hard…

I begin to throb in response. Sex should be the last thing on my mind, but I can’t seem to control my reaction.

Lust, embarrassment, and surprise all collide inside me. I need to remove myself from this situation before I completely lose my mind.

I set my jaw and jerk my knee up with all my might.

Rory’s expression folds in on itself, and he hunches toward his aching nutsack as I heave with all I have to get him off me. He falls to my right, grunting and grousing.

I spring to my feet and attempt another break for it.

Moisture wicks my eyes, rendering my vision blurry and distorted.

Before Rory kidnapped me, before Leo tried to sell me to the highest bidder, I was trapped on the De Luca estate, forced to paint for ten hours a day.

When Enzo was still alive, I was allowed to visit the city every once in a blue moon, but when Leo took power, he forbade me from stepping foot outside the compound without his permission.

To keep from going stir crazy, I snuck down to the estate’s gym and started running. At first I could only go for a few minutes at a time, but the more pent-up aggression I acknowledged, the more fear, pain, and stress Leo heaped upon me, the more I ran and the faster I got.

Before the auction, I’d been running ten miles a day for the past two weeks. That was my ‘hamster on a wheel’ time.

A time I will never return to.

I refuse. I can’t. I won’t.

The misery of my existence crashes down on me as I burst from a hedge corridor into the center of the labyrinth. The water streaming from the fountain glistens in the dusky light. The sky opens above me, twilight cascading overhead.

Tears fall from my eyes as I rotate in a circle. At least ten different pathways converge on this space. Which of them should I take?

Which one will lead me to freedom?

Frustrated exhaustion claws at me. Why is this my life?

Hopelessness sets in, even as my flight reflex continues to set off sirens in my head. I take another step back from Rory as he fiddles with something on his watch.

While he’s distracted, I put a few more strides between us. I keep backing away until a metallic chorus freezes me to the spot.

A click-click reverberates through the clearing.

Metallic barrels gleam between the dark leaves of the shrubs, almost invisible to the eye in the dying light.

Guns are poised to fire on me from every direction.

Shock, terror, and resignation form a toxic sludge in my gut.

No wonder Rory was so nonchalant in his pursuit. He knew the possibility of escape was basically zilch.

“You failed to mention earlier that you’re an Olympic marathoner.” Rory leans against a hedge, still breathing a little heavier than usual.

My head spins from fatigue, or defeat, or both. I drop onto the nearest cement bench, letting the soothing noise of the fountain calm me. “I’m not a marathon runner.”

“Could have fooled me.” Sweat glistens on Rory’s forehead as he slowly strides toward me. “You were only panting for about two seconds.”

I don’t answer right away. I’m too busy doom-spiraling from feeling trapped. Nothing freaks me out more than the helplessness of being caged. Visions of my last few months in confinement at the De Luca estate urge me to sprint five thousand miles without looking back.

But I took my shot and failed. Now it’s time to pay the piper.

I wonder how Rory will punish me. My brain helpfully provides images of tactics Matteo and Leo have tried in the past, and my stomach lurches.

“Why do you train so hard?”

When his hand suddenly reaches for my face, my reaction is reflexive. I cringe and raise my own hand in defense while anticipating the pain.

Several seconds tick by and nothing happens. Then Rory releases a stream of curses as I straighten and fend off a surge of embarrassment.

“I train hard because I’ve always had something to run from.”