“As ye wish, my headstrong woman.” He sucked in a deep breath, then ducked beneath the surface. With his shoulder settled nicely under her fine round arse, he pushed off from a submerged boulder and launched himself upward. The force of his thrust shot her up out of the water and toward Karma.
She flopped across the rock with a heavy splat. Her top half landed well up on the stone but her rear and legs still dangled off the edge. Gray lunged upward, hooked the ledge under his arms, and shouted at the dog standing at Trulie’s head. “Grab her, lad. Help me get her up the rest of the way.”
Karma crouched over her upper body, buried his muzzle in the depths of her tangled hair and bit into her clothes. Gray cupped Trulie’s bottom in his palm and nodded toward the waiting canine. “Now, lad.”
In one great yanking lunge by both man and beast, Trulie shifted to the middle portion of the ledge.
Gray hung on to the side of the rock, adrenalin pounding through every fiber. His flesh hummed with energy. The worst was done. Now all he had to do was get her dry and warm. In one great push, he heaved himself up the rest of the way and landed on the rock beside her.
“Good job, MacKenna,” she said softly as her head fell to the side. Her face was too pale. Her skin too blue. Gray pushed the soaked curls away from her clammy face. He had to get her out of those clothes. If he didn’t get her dry and warm, Trulie Sinclair would never jump through time again.
He reached for the pile of clothing he had shed before diving into the water. He sorted through the items until his fingers closed around the bone handle of his dirk. Crouching beside her, he ignored the freezing wind stinging his bare arse.
Shoving her wet hair to the side, he hooked the blade under the back collar of her dress and split the garment down to the hem. With shaking hands, he peeled away the heavy layers of cold, soaked clothing. Heaven help him, her skin was white and smooth as finely polished ivory. He swallowed hard, then barely touched her glistening back. So very soft and so very cold. He shook himself free of the trance, rolled her out of her clothes, and curled her against his chest. Bless her soul, ’twas like cradling silky ice.
Gray held her tight and roughly rubbed up and down her back. Thank the heavens for the frigid air. He would play hell controlling his man parts if not for the freezing cold. The icy softness of her curves burned into his flesh as though he embraced molten steel.
Struggling to hold her limp form upright, he managed to work his thick woven lèine over her head and down around her body. He held his breath and barely stroked the back of his hand along the smoothness of her jaw. “Ye must live,” he whispered.Lore, he would give anything if she would just open her eyes.
She slumped against him. Gray pressed an ear to her chest, searching for a heartbeat.There.It was faint and rapid, but at least the spark of life remained. He bundled the length of his plaid around her. The heavy wool of his colors would shield her from the bitter wind.
Her head rolled against his shoulder as he stood with her in his arms. “Ye must live,” he gently ordered, thenclosed his eyes and sent up a prayer.Dinna let her die.
“Come, beast. We must get her to a fire.” He shoved through the tangle of willows and overgrown sedge. Carefully, setting one soggy boot at a time on the treacherous shale, he made his way to the safety of the higher path. Karma shot past him, a dark streak racing up the trail toward the clearing. Gray prayed the dog would somehow raise the alarm.
As he shoved through the brush, he turned sideways and held her closer. Perhaps he should have left the shoes on her wee feet to protect them from the branches’ claws. Karma’s baying bark echoed back to him, hurrying him along.
“Quickly. We have stoked the fire.” Granny stood at the head of the path, waving him forward. As he pushed out into the open, the old woman tiptoed beside him, one hand lightly patting Trulie’s bundled form. “She will be just fine. I shall not consider otherwise.”
Gray hoped the crone was right. Trulie’s heartbeat barely tickled against his chest. “Have Tamhas spread a pallet as close to the fire as possible.”
“It is already done,” Granny said. “And I have sent Coira to the keep to alert yer men until we know...”
Gray did not care for the way the woman’s voice trailed off. “Until we know what? Ye just said ye would not consider anything for yer granddaughter other than a full recovery.”
The white-haired matron’s mouth flattened into a determined line and she bowed her head. She went silent as she hobbled ahead of him and threw the door open wide.
“Come, my chieftain. Place her right there.” Tamhas hurried Gray forward, pointing to the thick mat of blankets spread before the hearth.
The heat of the room hit Gray full on as soon as he stepped through the door. And he welcomed it. His own flesh had already gone numb. Flames raged in the hearth. The inferno roared up into the mudded flue.
He eased Trulie down onto the pallet, then gently slid his arms from around her. She looked so tiny, almost colorless. He cursed his shaking hands as he pulled away the folds of his damp frozen mantle and exposed her to the heat.
Granny knelt beside him, shooing him away. She bent lower, pressed an ear to her granddaughter’s chest and closed her eyes. “Her heart still beats,” the old woman whispered. Her voice trembled with emotion. Straightening, she bunched the wet folds of Gray’s plaid in both hands and tugged. “Lift her up so I can get rid of this wet cloth. She has to be dry and warm.”
Gray held his breath as he slid both arms under Trulie’s naked form and took her back into his arms. Lore a’mighty, the room suddenly seemed stifling.
“There now.” Granny patted a blue-veined hand atop the dry blankets. “Now you can settle her back.”
He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. She smelled of honey, warm spice, an indescribable sweetness that he craved.He cradled her closer, reveling as Trulie’s warming flesh melted against his.
“Gray!”
He jolted, rocked back on his heels, and held Trulie tighter. “What?” he snapped.
“I said,” Granny repeated quietly with a nod at the pallet, “you can put her down now. I removed all the wet cloth.”
What if he didn’t wish to relieve himself of his sweet burden? He glared at the old woman, resenting the amusement flickering in her eyes. Plotting old crone.He could see mischief growing in her mind.
