Free The Heartbeat Thief by AJ Krafton, Ash Krafton Page A

opened inside her, draining her energy and her resolve. He wouldn’t find the phaeton. The porter would not return, unable to bear the unfortunate news of his failure back to the pretty woman.
    She was on her own. Nothing to do but begin the journey home. Alone.
    The walk would be a long, lonely one. A glance at the sky, showed the sun climbing on toward noon. Best start walking while she had the light.
    The rail station stood at the edge of town. It wasn’t long before the road had become completely rural, flanked by pastures and groves of thickly-canopied trees. At least she didn’t have to endure the eyes of passersby. A girl with her countenance always got noticed, always inspired a rash of gentility and an eagerness to assist in even the most contrived of ways.
    Right now, she just wanted to disappear.
    Just as he had.
    The brooding clouds had blown through, revealing the unfettered sun. It seemed intent on shining with a vengeance, striving to make up for the iron-gray morning. She had no umbrella, and she’d left her hat and shawl in his carriage. The glaring sun beat down on her and her dress weighed three times the normal. Although determination and a fair amount of adrenaline had hastened her steps, it wasn’t long before her pace slowed to a listless trudge, weary in the oppressive heat.
    A large shady tree stood ahead at the bend in the road. Relief. Rest.
    The shade provided immediate relief from the heat. She crumpled to the ground and leaned up against the trunk. At this rate, it would take her a week, if she survived the trek. Stupid girl, for chasing after him to town, for trusting—
    “Of course, you can trust me,” came Knell’s reply.
    The sound of his voice made her jump, her bare skin scraping against the tree bark. She rolled onto her knees and peered around the wide trunk. He sat against the opposite side, cutting a wedge out of an apple.
    He held out his knife, offering the apple slice that balanced on the end. “I would never abandon you.”
    Her ability to speak returned, as did a great deal of the frustration that drove her most of the way. “You did! You left me at the train station and you were gone and I had to walk—”
    “It was a difficult lesson, but a necessary one.” He leaned away from her and reached for something near his legs.
    Senza peered over him and saw a blanket spread out with picnic fare. Fruit, a bottle and glasses, bread. He picked up the bottle and poured a full glass before handing it to her. Lemonade, by the look of it. Moisture began to collect on the glass. Cold, too.
    The sight of the refreshment made her swallow hard. She was terribly thirsty, but she hesitated, eying him with considerable suspicion.
    “Take it,” he said. “I won’t bite.”
    His smirk made her wonder, but only a moment before she reached for the glass.
    “Not so fast,” he warned. “You’re overheated. Too much too soon will make you ill.”
    She sat back on her heels and sipped. Sour and sweet, just the way grandmother used to make it. Her nape and arms prickled with uncomfortable heat. She gingerly patted the back of her neck, snatching her fingers away with a swift inhale. “I fear I was overexposed.”
    “You’re burned, is what you are.” He set down the apple and brushed his hand off on his trousers. “Come here.”
    She crept closer on her knees and twisted, sitting with her back toward him so that he could examine her.
    He clucked his tongue. “You don’t get outside much, do you?”
    “Tramping about like an animal, without a parasol? Certainly not. Ouch, watch that.” She squirmed away but he tugged her back.
    “Sit still, already. I cannot return you in this condition.” He placed his hands directly over the sting on her neck, wrapping his hands across her nape, over her collarbones.
    His hands were icy cold. The chill permeated her skin, sank into her, and spread with a numbing creep that dulled the twinging nerves. The pain, faded into discomfort and the