Then when he had caught her from falling, it was quite a struggle not to taste her lips and get a sample of what kind of passion she held, but he was relieved he didn’t give into temptation. Being so near was such sweet torture, and he didn’t dare experience it again.
It had been five years since he’d learned his lesson about rich women, and he made it a rule not to court any of them ever again. They were too fake and cared very little for anyone but themselves. Knowing he’d return to England and meet plenty of that type of woman made him physically ill. If only he could encounter a sweet, kind-hearted, and loving woman. But he feared he wouldn’t find her amongst those being put on display during the London Season. The perfect woman for him was out there somewhere, and he wouldn’t wed until he was truly in love.
A group of his men helped pack the supplies for the trek ahead of them, a task that assisted in taking Felix’s mind off the very alluring woman in their midst—except for when her laughter floated through the air. Every time he heard the angelic sound, he swung his head in her direction, wondering what had caused her to laugh.
As the day wore on, a few of his men napped on the vessel, which was what he should do as well. Yet he dared not close his eyes for fear his lonely mind would take over and create images of the very beautiful woman he didn’t want there. Instead, he needed to keep busy.
Katrina sat next to a tall crate that blocked her from the sun. A sketchpad lay on her bent knees as she drew. Eyes focused on her hand, she worked her bottom lip with her teeth. Every once in a while, she lifted her gaze and looked across the river before returning to her drawing.
Curiosity got the better of him and pulled him away from his packing to walk toward her. On his way, he picked up a bottle of quinine, which was necessary for their trip. It was a treatment for malaria and could also be used to relax the muscles.
He neared, waiting for her to raise her head and meet his stare. She didn’t. So engrossed in her drawing, she obviously didn’t hear him even when he stopped at her side. He dropped his gaze on her sketch. Surprise washed over him. She had drawn the river and trees so perfectly he thought he could jump right into the illustration.
He cleared his throat. Startled, she jerked her head up. When their gazes met, her eyes widened, and she pulled the sketchpad to her chest.
“Mr. Knightly. Forgive me for not realizing you were there.”
“No need to apologize.” He pointed to the pad in her hand. “I think your drawing is very good.”
She shrugged as pink colored her cheeks. “I love drawing scenery. The river is so beautiful. So serene. I wanted to capture it on paper.”
“Will you show me more of your work?” He crouched to her level.
She nodded and placed the pad of paper on her lap again. He didn’t want to take his focus off her flushed face, but he did in order to peek at her sketches as she slowly flipped each page. Shocked, he blinked in awe. Her drawings weren’t just passively good, they were nearly perfect.
“Miss Landon, you have exceptional talent.” He wished the tone of his voice hadn’t deepened just then.
“Thank you.”
Her face flamed brighter as she looked everywhere else but at him. Finally, when she met his stare, her green eyes darkened. She was breathtaking.
“Here.” He handed her a bottle of quinine. “This is for you to take only if you get jungle fever. All you need to do is drink a couple of swallows of this, and within hours, you’ll feel better.”
“Will I be able to tell if I have jungle fever?” she asked.
“Yes. You will start hallucinating and you’ll be extremely ill. But don’t worry. I’ll be able to tell if you have contracted the fever.”
Nodding, she closed her fingers around the bottle. Their fingers brushed against each other and caused his insides to burn. Perhaps he’d already caught the fever. Why else would he get so warm every time they were this close?
A gentle smile broke across her face as she turned to her pack and placed the bottle inside. Her gaze moved across his face, stirring desire in him he wished hadn’t taken root. When her attention was drawn to something over his shoulder, he was relieved. Confusion wrinkled her brow and she pointed at something in the distance.
“What is that?” Standing, she shaded her hand over her eyes and squinted. “Why do those trees look so oddly shaped?”
Felix stood and swung around to see what she was pointing at. His heart sank as panic consumed him. Howler monkeys hung from the tall trees—all of them still as they watched the group on the boat move closer. These wild animals were easily agitated and could make their journey miserable, especially because the boat was nearly underneath these trees, slowly moving nearer.
He glanced at Katrina’s wide, curious eyes. He needed to protect her, but where could he hide her here on the barge?
He prayed she wouldn’t do anything to irritate the wild creatures.
* * * *
WHEN FELIX DIDN’T ANSWERKatrina right away, she looked at him. Worry etched his expression as his mouth grew tight. Although his stare was fixed on the trees, he crept closer to her. In fact, everyone on the boat seemed to move as slow as turtles, heading toward their weapons.
“Mr. Knightly?” she whispered for only his ears. “What is wrong?”
He turned toward her and grasped her wrist. His hold wasn’t tight, but his actions still worried her.
“What you see in those trees are howler monkeys,” he spoke in a low tone.
