“These woods are filled with predators,” he said, a predator himself who would easily recognize the dangers. His hand was suddenly below her chin and touched the tenderness there. “ ’Twould be a mistake for you to think you could leave here alone and survive.”
“Predators? The two-legged or four-legged kind?”
“Both. You have courage. I would hate to see it all thrown away on an imprudent decision.”
Her pulse fluttered beneath his touch. “I want to wash,”she said bluntly, feeling dizzy as she looked at the pond. “Alone if you will.”
“Within sight of the camp.” The lack of timbre in his voice pulled her gaze back to his. “I mean what I say, Rose. You are in no condition to go anywhere on your own. And I warn you, the water is cold.”
The colder the better, in her mind, Rose thought as she limped down the hill to where water trickled over rocks into the cold pond. When she sensed Ruark had moved away, she stole a glance over her shoulder and watched as he squatted near the fire to tend to the fish. With his elbow braced on his knee, he looked over at her, and she turned abruptly, aware of his interest.
She removed the cloak. Part of her felt emboldened enough to strip away the shirt in defiance of her shyness, and so she did, for the devil had seized her. Only because she knew that he had seen her wariness of him. Let him watch if he chose. She was not afraid of him.
She walked through reeds and mallow ferns and dove into the water, only to come up sputtering as the icy water snatched a gasp from her throat.Bloody hell!The pond must be fed by an underground stream.
She forced herself to swim and after a while the cold felt good against her tender flesh if only because she could no longer feel her limbs. Treading water, she looked about her at the open meadow, escape always on her mind. Then she turned on her back to enjoy the rare bout of sunlight warming her face before she forced herself to return. If he could withstand the pond long enough to fish, then so could she. Being a proficient swimmer helped, and with deep strokes, she waded farther out and floated on her back. Finally, she swam back to the bank.
A shadow fell over her. She looked up to see Ruark standing near the rock where she had laid her cloak. Fullydressed now, he held the rest of her clothing balled up in his hand. He’d tied back his dark hair with a leather strip. His earring glistened silver in the sunlight and momentarily drew her attention.
“Breakfast is ready,” he said, amused and clearly recognizing her quandary. She would have to climb out before she turned blue.
She wished now she hadn’t been so eager to shed her shirt.
“Turn around.”
“And give you my back? Not on your life, love.”
Damn him. She rose out of the water feeling like a mermaid with her wet hair hanging like reeds to her hips. She struggled up the embankment and snatched up her cloak. Then faltered and would have fallen to her knees had he not grabbed her arm. He set the cloak around her shoulders and handed her her clothes.
“I can walk without aid,” she said weakly.
Ignoring her, he lifted her into his arms. “No doubt you have become accustomed to your own independence, love. But not today.”
He brought her into the camp and set her down beside the fire. Forced by weakness and the need to sit, she dropped on a dead worm-eaten log, feeling like one of the scaly, tattered lichen she’d dislodged with her ankle.
He bent and retrieved the tin cup on the fire-warmed stones next to the cooking trout. He pressed the rim to her lips. “Drink. You will feel better.”
Pushing the cup away, she turned her head. “I would beg to differ, my lord. I already feel like a foxed sailor.”
His mouth crooked. “A foxed sailor? You mean a drunken jack-tar. Aye. The English cannot hold their spirits.”
He was teasing though he may as well not have been. Hehad no great fondness for anything Sassenach. “Drink. ’Tis hot willow-bark tea. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”
Unlike the heated passion of last night that left an indelible tenderness between her legs, his touch remained gentle, and to her, his kindness made a paradox of his absolute disreputableness.
She held the warm cup in her palms and looked over the rim at the willow trees as she sipped. The taste was astringent and bitter and the tea would work to help alleviate pain and swelling in her leg. The bark was obtained in the thin channeled pieces between the slight downy and serrated leaves. He would have had to have gathered the bark earlier and dried it on the rocks.
“Did you learn about willow-bark tea during your time at sea as well?”
“One learns something about medicine if one wishes to keep his crew alive. But McBain is the expert. I was merely the patient most of the time.”
She peered down at his back as he bent to slide the fish on the tin plate that went with the cup she held. “You have been injured?”
“I have seen my fair share of battle,” he said without looking at her. “A broadside can destroy a man in more ways than you can imagine.”
She could not imagine standing on the quarterdeck of any ship facing cannon fire. Or giving the order to fire. That he had done so only brought home to her the manner of man she found herself against.
She scraped her finger idly over the cup’s rim. “Last night ...”
