She glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable. “Er. Okay.”
He led her up a narrow trail that wove farther into the mountains, and soon they came to a glacier lake with pale turquoise water. This one was much smaller than the other one she had found, more intimate. The water was paler here, the blue of the water so pale it was almost white.
Caspian gave her a smile that was pure mischief. “Care for a swim?”
She knew from experience that it was cold as ice. She shook her head vigorously. “Not a chance. The water must be freezing.”
“Warm as a nice bath.” Caspian dismounted and held out a hand to help her down. “Do you mind if I take a dip?”
She shook her head and watched him as he lifted the hem of his tunic.
He stripped off his tunic, baring his broad chest with its scattering of dark chest hair. Her eyes travelled over his muscled arms.
Shedding everything but his undershorts, he dove into the water with boyish enthusiasm. When he surfaced, flicking water from his hair, she was surprised to see that he looked much more unguarded and genuine than she had ever seen him.
He dragged a hand through his inky black hair, sweeping the wet strands out of his face, and rose from the water, his muscular body beaded with water drops.
He noticed her attention with no small amount of male satisfaction, which made her avert her eyes, not wanting him to think she found him any adjective other than vile.
Caspian toweled his hair with his shirt, leaving it damp and tousled. He put his pants on, then his boots. She looked skyward, beseeching the gods to get him to put a shirt on. Her prayers went unheard, and she was forced to endure the sight of his muscular back shifting as he moved with his horse’s stride.
After a while of being in the sun that peeked out from between the clouds, Caspian patted his skin, and upon seeing he was dry, tugged his tunic back on, stretching the fabric down to cover his torso. He seemed oblivious to her gaze, tracking every movement of his hands.
They returned to the stables, and Elizabeth made to take off Buttercup’s bridle, but Caspian stopped her with a hand. “I’ll take care of it.” He took the reins from her and removed Buttercup’s bridle.
He didn’t smile or show in any way that he was being kind; rather, he focused on the task. She watched him clean the bridle with care and reach for the bucket of brushes. He brushed Buttercup with long strokes, making it clear he knew what he was doing. During her time in his castle, she had never seen him touch a brush or lift a finger for anything while she had been here, and she wondered how he had learned to care for horses.
“I don’t mind helping.” She sat on a stool and wrung her hands, suddenly uncertain with this new dynamic between them. He was doing something nice for her, and she didn’t know how to respond.
“I’ve got it.” His voice was gruff, but not unkind.
She watched him work, his hands gentle with the animals.
“You’re good with them,” she observed.
He paused in his brushing. She leaned forward and waited for him to respond, but he shrugged a shoulder and continued sweeping a brush over the horse’s flank. His hands and shirt grew dirty with stable dust.
He dragged a hand down each leg of the horse and pulled up each hoof, cleaning it with a pick tool. He even brushed out their manes and tails, giving each horse a big pat when he was done.
Caspian rinsed off his hands in a trough of water outside the barn and came back. Venturing into the tack room, he returned with a handful of treats andoffered them to her. “Shall we give our magnificent beasts some treats for good behaviour?”
She grinned, delighted. “I’d like that.”
She offered Buttercup a few treats while Caspian tossed hay into their feed baskets. Lial was nowhere to be seen today, and she wondered if Caspian had ordered him to stay out of sight for the day.
She watched in fascination as Caspian took a few treats and fed them to Draugr. “There you go, you jealous animal.”
He dried his hands off on his tunic and offered her his arm.
“Shall we?” Caspian inquired.
She swallowed and took his arm, hyperaware of the warmth of his skin through the fabric. In the entrance hall, he released her, almost reluctantly. Softly, he said, “Enjoy the rest of your day, Elizabeth.”
“Thank you,” she managed. “For … today.”
Something flickered across his face—surprise perhaps—then his face became impassive once more.
What had that all been about?
