Moving quickly, she finished drying her feet, then drew on her stockings and shoes, smoothed her skirt, ran a hand through her hair.
He knocked on the door again.
Shanara took a deep, calming breath, then called, “Enter.”
Reyes stepped into the room and moved toward the hearth.
Shanara’s eyes widened as he reached for the cloth she had used. “Do you mean to bathe?”
“Aye.”
“I will wait outside.”
“No.”
She stared at him, speechless. “You cannot expect me to stay while you wash!” she exclaimed in horror.
“And how long would you remain if I let you out of my sight?”
The rush of color in her cheeks was all the answer he needed.
When he reached for the soap, she quickly turned her back to him, her arms crossed over her breasts.
Grinning, Reyes dropped the blanket.
Shanara stared at the wall, trying not to listen as he washed, trying not to imagine how he looked without the blanket. She knew it was shameless of her but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Having five brothers, she was no stranger to naked men or the male body but Reyes was not kin and, truth be told, none of her brothers was as tall as her captor, nor did any of them have shoulders as broad. Certainly none were as handsome…
She shook the thought aside. The man was her enemy. He was keeping her against her will, hoping to trade her life forher father’s, and though she had little love for her father, he deserved her loyalty.
“Let’s go, lass.”
“Are you decent?”
“Not always, but I am covered.”
She turned to find he had again wrapped the blanket around his waist and tied it in place with a leather thong.
“Do you often find yourself naked in the woods?” she asked, then clapped her hand over her mouth, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Not often.” Opening the door, he waited for her to cross the threshold, then followed her outside, pulling the door closed behind him.
They walked for a time in silence. Shanara was acutely conscious of the man at her side. He towered over her. Bare-chested and barefooted, he looked more like a barbarian than ever. His skin was very brown. Dark bristles shadowed his jaw. His wounds looked red and painful. In truth, she was surprised that he was on his feet at all.
From time to time she could feel him watching her, his gaze as tangible as a touch. What was he thinking? She shivered, wondering what he would do to her when her father refused to take her place.
She slid a furtive glance in his direction, her mind filling with questions.
“What is it?” he asked gruffly.
“Nothing.”
He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “‘Tis obvious you want to ask me something. Ask it.”
“How long have you been cursed?”
“Since I reached manhood.”
“Were you frightened, the first time it came upon you?”
