Rage and terror burst over her then. She flailed, kicking at the man who held her, clawing at his arm as she tried to break his hawserlike grip on her midsection. Her breath came in wheezing gasps and the edges of her vision grew dim. It wasn’t fair that she had escaped the house to be caught by some drunken seaman or sot reeling homeward. It wasn’t fair…“Be still, or I swear I’ll…”That voice, the damnably American-accented voice.Kerr Wallace. It couldn’t be, shouldn’t be, but it was. She redoubled her efforts, managed to ram an elbow backward into his ribs.“Bloody hell.”The world shifted around her in a whirl of black and red, tan and brown. She landed on her back, dragged a single whistling breath into her lungs before a hard-muscled form landed on top of her. Long legs tangled with hers, holding them straight. Her wrists were grasped in viselike fingers and pinned to the ground on either side of her face. A hard chest, banded with thick muscle, pressed into her breasts, holding her immobile.She closed her eyes tightly, unwilling to look, not wanting to see.
