His Inheritance

Homecoming

Your heart flew as you ran like the hounds of hell were chasing you out of Boston. The snow stung your cheeks, the cold wind carrying them took your breath away as you skimmed over the snow, heading in what you thought was the direction of those other homes you saw in the distance.

It was hard to hear any sounds aside from the dull thumps of your feet, the pounding of your heart, and your rasping breath. You kept moving, refusing to look back.

Don't look back.

Your life and freedom were on the line.

But the land around his home seemed to go on forever and it was so cold. You weren't wearing the best shoes for running in the snow either. When you heard a shout in the distance behind you, one of your feet slid out from under you and you went face down in the snow hard. Shivering, you scrambled to your feet, making a beeline for what looked like an ancient barn near the fence at the edge of the property that you'd finally reached.

But hiding in the barn was the obvious choice. You ran towards it, ran in it, immediately searching in the darkness for any other way out. If he stopped and thought you were hiding in the barn, it would buy you some time.

Anxiety had your heart racing as you scrambled, enjoying the brief respite the shelter gave you. When you saw an open gap near the back of the old wooden structure, you darted for it. Carefully, you slipped through the narrow space where a couple of boards had pulled away, taking a deep breath before braving the cold again.

There was a small wooded area just beyond the barn. You chose a huge old oak tree and hid behind it, wincing in the wind and snow to watch the barn. To see who was following you and what they'd do.

You waited.

You didn't hear or see anyone. Where had they gone? You had a pretty good view of the direction you'd traveled. Shivering behind the tree, your teeth chattering, you waited miserably, wishing you could see who followed you. When the coast was clear, you'd keep going. You had to keep moving.

When arms that felt like iron bands clamped around you and jerked you up, you screamed.

"There's nowhere on this property where I can't find you, princess," Steve's voice was low in your ear. "But it was a fun little effort."

Little effort, huh?

Running high on adrenaline, you fought like hell. You went limp to make yourself heavier, trying to break his hold. When that didn't work you tried to bite him, to kick him. It took more than a little effort for him to haul you roughly up onto one wide shoulder and even then, you pounded the hell out of his back, yelling at him to let you go, that you didn't want to marry him, and God only knew what else in your anxiety and rage.

You heard a vehicle moving closer – all you could really see was the snow blowing all around you and Steve's ass – until you saw beams of light from the headlamps and Steve paused with you.

Again, you fought, tried to make him drop you.

"Quit!" He slapped your ass hard for your efforts.

Steve managed to throw open the door of what looked like a fairly new black Jeep, shoving you roughly onto the back seat, and keeping a hold on you as he climbed in behind you and slammed the door.

You saved your strength. You'd wait until the vehicle stopped and then try again. You didn't recognize the sandy-haired driver. His blue-eyed gaze met yours in the mirror and you read the curiosity there.

"Thanks for the lift, Clint," Steve told him, shooting you a warning look.

"Yeah, no problem," the driver answered. "Dyson called me. He said you had your hands full."