The Runner (Part I of the Runner Series)

Chapter 28

I step out of the carriage and flip a coin to the driver, waiting for him to drive away before I set off down the street toward Will's flat, the satchel Meg gave me clutched tightly against my shoulder.

After yesterday's chat in the library, Meg and I devised a scenario to get me out of the Palace with a letter addressed to the Runner. This morning Meg sought me out me in the parlour and handed over the satchel, loudly requesting that I drive into the market to pick up some items for her. I supplemented our treasonous contraband with some comfortable items of clothing, along with a small purse of coins that I had managed to squirrel away for Lara. It has been weeks since I have seen my best friend and I whistle a little to myself in anticipation.

I walk the few blocks to the flat, sticking to the main streets and keeping my pace to a slow amble. Dressed in my Palace garb, I give no reason for anyone to suspect that I am anything but a respectable lady out for a day of shopping.

When I reach Will's building, I glance up the outer wall. For a moment I contemplate hitching up my skirt and shimmying up to his window, but instead opt for the more ladylike option and enter through the front door.

My heart is beating heavily in my chest as I ascend the stairs. I rap lightly on the door to his flat, smiling when it swings open.

A small yelp escapes my lips as his arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me inside, swinging me around and capturing me in a kiss while the door slams shut behind us. I place my hands behind his head and pull him closer, opening my mouth to his.

A low murmur sounds from his throat and he lifts me from my feet, carrying me over to the couch. I love that he isn't too gentle and respond with a hungry nip to his neck.

"Gods, I've missed you," he says between kisses.

I sigh happily and pull his shirt over his head, running my hands up and down his scarred back.

Within moments my dress is gone and we are pulling at each other as though we will never get another chance. I arch my back against him, every part of me crying out to bring him closer and closer, feeling that I will never get enough of this ridiculous man who can make me feel things I never knew existed.

When we've both had our fill, I hold him against me, listening as our synchronized breathing gradually slows.

"Well, hello to you as well," I say. He covers my laughing mouth with another kiss and I playfully push him off me. "I have things I need to do today. I didn't come here just for you."

"Liar," he accuses.

I climb out from underneath him and reach for Meg's satchel, seeking out the spare clothes I have brought with me and pulling them on. He watches me from the couch, raising an eyebrow suggestively and patting the seat next to him.

I laugh and toss him his trousers. "I feel as though you aren't taking this seriously," I tease.

He sighs dramatically, reaching for his clothes, his eyes never leaving me. "You're beautiful," he says.

I glance down at my street-rat outfit of loose, patched pants and a cropped top. "You're mad," I accuse, my attention diverted by his open shirt and chiselled stomach.

"No argument there." He stands up and makes a show of stretching his arms.

I dig through my bag for the letter, carefully averting my eyes from his physique. Gods, he's distracting.

"I have news," I say, brandishing the letter at him.

"What's that?"

"It's a letter from Meg."