He cocked his head. “Don’t you talk?”
At that instant, the solution came to her. Thanks to her outfit, she looked like a country maid who’d spent the day doing chores. The only thing that would foil her disguise was her accent.
The best way to protect my identity is to remain silent—to let nothing slip.
Widening her eyes, she shook her head.
He drew his brows together. “You cannot speak?”
She shook her head again.
He studied her. “But you do understand me?”
After a moment, she nodded.
“Well, I don’t mind silence.” A corner of his mouth tipped up lazily. “Truth be told, I could use more of it in my life.”
Oh no.
He came closer. Every instinct screamed “Retreat!”, yet she had nowhere to run. She was caught between the tree and his equally unyielding form. He leaned a big hand on the trunk by her shoulder. His proximity set off a chain of foreign sensations. Her blood rushed beneath her skin, and her bones felt oddly liquid. Even when waltzing, she’d never been this close to a man…never mind one with a bare, rippling chest. A rash of heat spread over her insides.
Her breath unsteady, she contemplated her next move. Screaming would be useless; there was no one to hear her. However, she was no wilting violet and had three older brothers who’d imbued her with useful knowledge. Owen, the closest to her in age, had given the simplest advice: If some bounder tries to compromise you, poppet, you knee him where it hurts and make a run for it.
She snuck a peek at the Viking’s you-know-what.
Merciful heavens, is that a bulge beneath his towel? Did his male member grow?
On the bright side, the size of her target guaranteed that she would not miss. She tensed and prepared to execute the defensive maneuver.
“You’re not scared, are you?” the stranger murmured. “Upon my honor, I’ve never forced a woman and never will.”
Upon my honor. The phrase stayed the upward motion of her knee. When her brothers or papa uttered those words, it meant something because they were gentlemen, and honor was important to them. Was it possible that this fellow also had integrity? His uncouth behavior would argue against it…yet that would be a case of the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn’t it? Being a fair-minded person, she knew her own impropriety had contributed to the present fiasco.
Should I trust in this man’s honor?
“In exchange for giving you a show, all I ask for is a boon in return.”
She squirmed against the tree. She wasn’t certain which was more mortifying: that she’d ogled a naked fellow or that she’d been caught doing it. But she wasn’t about to add insult to injury by getting herself compromised.
“I am not asking for anything excessive,” he said easily. “Just tit for tat.”
Tit for tat? He must be mad. If he thinks I am going to remove my clothes?—
As if gleaning her thoughts, he laughed. “I’m not expecting a show, sweetheart. Not that I’m averse if you would like to give me one.”
She hoped her narrow-eyed look conveyed her reaction to his suggestion and his cheap endearment.
“No show, then.” He held up his hands, looking as innocent as a mostly naked, sopping wet Viking could look. “How about a kiss, then? After that, we part ways, no debts between us. You have my word.”
Chewing her lip, she considered his proposal. A kiss was a small price to pay to escape the situation and, at two-and-twenty, she wasn’t inexperienced. She’d allowed a few suitors to kiss her, and the experiences had been pleasant, if not particularly memorable. She’d wondered why her friends had giggled and blushed as they’d talked about kissing…wondered if she had missed out on something.
Will the Viking’s kiss be any different?
Hastily, she tamped down the thought. Obviously, she wasn’t interested in kissing this stranger. She was only doing it for expediency’s sake.
She held up her index finger to emphasize the terms of their bargain.
“One kiss,” he confirmed.
