“Hour or two is more like it,” Angus said.
“Neither will really make a difference,” Burke said and went after her. Her anger disturbed him. She might resort to sudden anger when on a mission, but he had never seen her grow so militant when planning or discussing a mission. Something else had to have disturbed her.
“Wait,” he called out to her since it didn’t look as if she planned on slowing down or stopping any time soon.
Storm spun around. “Stop following me. I prefer to be alone right now.”
He caught up with her. “Too bad, I’m coming with you.”
“You are a persistent annoyance.”
“And you are angry. Why?”
She looked ready to lash out at him when suddenly she shook her head, turned, and walked over to a large spruce, its branches mushrooming out and creating a haven beneath, which she sneaked under to sit.
Burke joined her, noticing she had drawn her legs up near to her chin and wrapped her arms around them as if huddled in protection. He wanted to reach out and pry her arms loose and tell her not to be afraid, that he wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.
“Talk to me, Storm. I’m a good listener.”
She rested her head on her raised knees, her glance directed at him. “I didn’t mean to get angry.”
“I know. You weigh your decisions carefully, even decisions made with no time to spare. You still give thought to each and every one of them, no matter how brief, though never unwisely.”
“You make me sound like a sage.”
“I believe at times you are,” he said. “It’s the mark of a good leader.”
Her head came up. “You’re right. A good leader must always see to the safety of her men, even the foolish ones.”
Burke nodded and grinned. “You’re referring to me.”
“I don’t wish to see you added to the list of those needing rescue.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to rescue me,” he said with confidence.
“Funny,” she said with a tap to her chin. “I recall rescuing you once already.”
He slapped his hand to his chest. “Must you wound my manly pride and remind me of that?”
Storm scoffed. “Somehow I don’t think your manly pride wounds that easily.”
This time he thumped his chest. “That’s because I’m a confident man.”
“Arrogant too.”
“That does help,” he admitted without remorse.
“Are all Americans like you?”
He smiled. “Only the lucky ones.”
Storm laughed, stretching her legs out and relaxing back against the thick tree trunk.
Relieved that he had eased her tension, he joined her relaxing against the tree. He had questions concerning the lad they were to rescue and the Lady Alaina, but they would have to wait. She looked so lovely sitting there, even dressed in lad’s garments. There was softness to her every curve and a defined beauty to her features. It could steal the breath if one gazed too long, or rob the senses, or make a man think on things that women deemed wicked.
Damn if he didn’t want to be wicked with Storm.
He wondered if perhaps she felt the same.
