He held his breath.His arm shuddered.
Her heart pounded as she tied the rags with frantic fingers.
“Almost,” she breathed, securing her plaid to the last rag.
Shivering in her thin leine, she rose on trembling legs to loop the tied rags around Hamish’s neck.She ducked under his head to secure the line.Then she fed out the makeshift rope and dropped it gingerly over the edge toward him.
The fingers of his free left hand could barely reach the cloth of her plaid.
She clucked to Hamish to summon him closer.
The axe made a sinister shriek as it twisted again on the rock.
Hamish stepped forward.
The plaid lowered toward the warrior another few inches.
Then, with a loud crack, the edge of the boulder chipped off, and the axe fell away.
At the last instant, the warrior seized the plaid in his left fist.
She gasped as the rag rope suddenly went taut.But Hamish, the loyal beast, stood steady, as if rescuing warriors from certain death was something he did every day.
Coaxed a few more paces forward along the path, Hamish hauled the Viking up out of danger.The man was able to crawl onto his hands and knees to catch his breath.
It was then Carenza noticed he’d never let go of his axe.She supposed it was a warrior’s instinct to die with his weapon in his hand.But now she wondered if she should be worried.
It was then she also realized, in her zeal to make the rag rope, she was now half-naked, clad only in her trews and thin leine.
He seemed to realize that at the same time.
But his concern was not for her modesty.“You must be freezing.”
He quickly untied the plaid from the rest of the rags and gently wrapped it around her shoulders.
Then he looked into her eyes with that penetrating gaze again.The one that seemed to read her thoughts and divine her emotions.
“I owe you my life,” he breathed.
She blushed.Not from his statement, which was true.But from the passion with which he’d uttered the words, as if his next words might be “so now I’m your slave forever.”
She gulped.
But then she remembered her mission.Saving Hamish.
Averting her eyes, she murmured, “If that’s true, then let me go.”
Hew’s first thought was,Never.
He didn’t say that, of course.He didn’t want to frighten the woman.
But deep in his soul, he knew he could never let her go.She felt like his destiny.
He tried to blame that strong belief on gratitude.Surely, he was only shaken by his close brush with death and grateful to the lady for saving his life.
But that wasn’t true.His warrior maid cousin had saved his life once.He didn’t feel that way abouther.
Nay, this woman felt like his fate.His heartmate.The One.
