A tomato? A tomato? She should dash her head against the nearest rock. Why wouldn’t her mouth stop working? Why didn’t the ground just open up and swallow her whole? She was fluent in five different languages, but in Raven’s presence she could barely string a coherent sentence together.
Heloise cleared her throat and busied herself with cracking open the almonds. She selected a large, flat stone and settled it between her legs as an anvil. With a second, smaller rock, she attacked the nuts. She pretended they were his head.
Raven, thankfully, stalked away to check on the horses, offering a fine view of his wide shoulders, slim hips, and tight derriere. Heloise missed the almond, hit her finger, and cursed under her breath.
For years she’d tried to fall in love with someone else, prayed to meet someone who returned her feelings. But the blasted Fates seemed to be determined to ignore her. Raven was the only one who’d do.
He was truly the most obnoxious, irritating man she’d ever met. She was a sensible, educated, enlightened woman. The fact that she still found him attractive, against all logical reasons to the contrary, was extremely vexing.
It was the stress of the situation. Too little sleep and too much excitement was enough to muddle anyone’s brain. Even one as ordered as hers.
Chapter 15
Heloise heard the river before she saw it; a rushing, gurgling sound that increased in volume as they rode toward it. She dismounted, dropped to her haunches to hide the fact that her legs had given way, and pretended she’d meant to test the water all along. It was crystal clear straight off the mountains; she scooped up a handful and drank greedily, gasping as the coolness soothed her parched throat.
She eyed the fast-moving torrent with a leaden sense of dread. “We can’t cross here.”
Raven dismounted and joined her. “We have to. There aren’t any bridges for miles.”
“It’s too deep.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said with exaggerated patience. “You’ll barely get your feet wet.”
He cinched the saddlebags higher on Hades’s back, stowed his pistols inside, then plucked off her hat and placed that in the saddlebag, too. He caught the reins of both horses in one hand and started forward. “Let’s go.”
Heloise scuffed the toe of her boot against a stone and sent it skittering into the water.
He leaned closer. “What’s that? You’re mumbling.”
Humiliation engulfed her. She hated having to admit a weakness. “I said, I can’t swim.”
Raven frowned. “Of course you can. You’re the one who saved Tony from that pond, remember?”
“Of course I remember,” she snapped. “I still have nightmares about it.” She bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to reveal that. She hurried on, hoping he hadn’t noticed the slip. “But I didn’t need to swim to rescue him. The water was frozen. I ran out over the ice. Well, slid, actually. And then I crawled forward on my belly and pulled him out.”
She lifted her hand to her forehead automatically, as if to confirm her scar was still there. She’d been helping Tony up the frozen bank, both of them sopping wet, their labored breaths forming icy clouds in front of them. He’d been so heavy. They’d slipped; she recalled the bright, stinging pain as her head hit a snow-covered rock, the festive brightness of her blood against the snow.
Raven’s brow creased as he clearly tried to recall a time when he’d witnessed her swimming. He’d fail. She’d always been banned from their naked lake swims and she hadn’t dared to try to teach herself. Her injury was a permanent reminder that she’d cheated Death of his chosen victim. It would have been tempting fate to go near water again.
He dropped his chin to his chest, closed his eyes, and swore under his breath. “Let me get this straight. You went out on that ice when you couldn’t bloody swim?”
Hades stepped nervously sideways, reacting to his increasing volume, but Raven controlled the animal with an impatient tug on the reins.
Heloise stood and faced him, her own temper rising at his accusatory tone. “I didn’t stop to think about it. Tony was drowning.”
He glared at her. “You could have been killed! What if the ice had given way beneath you, too? You’d both have ended up in the water.”
She placed her fists on her waist. “What would you have done? Stood on the bank and watched him drown?”
Her anger seemed to diffuse some of his own. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Of course not. I’d have gone after him, too.” He glanced down with a frown. “God, I wish I had been there. You wouldn’t have been hurt.”
The idea that he would have spared her pain, if he could, warmed her and she gentled her tone. “If you’d been there, no doubt you’d have been doing something even more dangerous than ice fishing. I’d have had to rescue both of you.”
He bent his head in wry acknowledgment. “You’re probably right.” He glared at the opposite bank. “There really isn’t another way across, you know. I can’t just leave you here.”
Her knees threatened to buckle. “Can’t we ride across?”
“No. I have no idea how the horses will react to the water. I can’t risk them throwing you.” He stepped closer and gave her a devilish smile. “I won’t let you drown, Hellcat. I’m reserving the pleasure of killing you for myself.” He held his free hand out toward her. “Come on. Just think of it as another item on your list: ‘Cross raging mountain torrent, gain Ravenwood’s eternal respect.’ ”
She couldn’t smile at his joke. The idea of going into that water was terrifying, but what choice did she have? She doubted she could find her way back to Santander on her own, even if he’d let her go, and she wasn’t ready for her adventure to end. Not yet. And when he looked at her like that, with such utter confidence, she’d follow him to hell itself.
She took his hand.
Heloise started to panic almost as soon as they started. The water was clear and icy-cold. It seeped into her boots with unpleasant speed then crept its way up her legs, getting colder and darker the deeper they waded. By the time it was knee-high, the current was so strong it threatened to pull her legs out from under her and she could barely feel her toes. Her fingers hurt; she was holding Raven’s hand so tightly she had to be crushing his knuckles but he didn’t seem to mind.
He wasn’t having nearly as much difficulty, the swine, being taller and heavier. He simply edged along, sideways to the current, feeling his way across the rocky streambed with his feet.
Her breathing became shallow pants as the water reached her waist. The opposite bank was miles away, and they weren’t even at the deepest part. To make matters worse, the horses were splashing and tossing their heads in agitation. Heloise flinched away from the plunging hooves, certain they were going to push her under.
Wonderful. If she didn’t drown she’d be trampled to death.
She didn’t want to die. She hadn’t finished all the items on her list.
She fixed her eyes on the far side. She could do this. She began reciting Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 in her head, the words all running together in her fright. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day thou art more lovely and more temperate rough winds do shake the darling buds of May and summer’s lease hath all too short a date—
Her foot slipped. She opened her mouth to scream but the current swept her legs out from beneath her and she went under. She lost hold of Raven’s hand and inhaled a mouthful of water. Blind panic descended. She thrashed her arms but the flow was so strong it pulled her down and tumbled her over so she didn’t even know which way was up. A blurry confusion of light and darkness churned around her and a great rushing filled her ears.
Death must be laughing right now.
Her lungs started to burn and she flailed again, at once desperate and hopeless. A ball of outraged fury welled in her chest. Such a stupid way to die.
And then something caught her shirt and yanked her upward. She burst through the surface of the water and dragged a great, gasping lungful of air. Nothing h
ad ever felt so good.
Raven’s face came back into focus and she struggled to put her feet down on the riverbed. “Don’t try. You’re out of your depth. Look at me. Only me. Nothing else.”
She was too terrified and disoriented to do anything other than obey. He was supporting her in the water, his legs beating a strong stroke beneath her, his hand fisted in the collar of her shirt.
Heloise blinked the water out of her eyes and coughed, clutching his forearm with both hands until her knuckles turned white.
“Breathe with me,” he ordered. “Match your breaths to mine. That’s it. Slowly.”
He became her universe; everything else faded away. She focused on the tiny droplets of water on his eyelashes, the black hair plastered to his forehead, the ridiculous green of his eyes. Her chin dipped beneath the surface and she inhaled another mouthful of water.
“Kick your legs,” he said.
She gave a weak kick and was astonished to feel herself propelled forward. She did it again. And again. When her feet finally touched the gravelly bank she uttered a heartfelt prayer of thanks. She started to stagger ashore but Raven swept her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way. He deposited her a few steps from the bank, letting her slide down his body but keeping his arms around her for support.
Heloise sagged against him, and for a brief moment she allowed herself the forbidden luxury of pressing her face into his chest and absorbing his strength deep into her bones. A shudder racked her body.
She wasn’t dead.
Raven rested his chin on the top of her head and simply held her, crooning reassurances into her sopping hair. She clung to him, unable to stop the shaking of her body or the bone-deep chill that gripped her. She had no idea how long they stood there. Time lost all meaning as he rocked her gently, but eventually the tremors abated and she came to slow awareness of their position.
She was clinging to his chest like a barnacle to a ship’s hull. Her head rested on his chest; she could hear his heartbeat, a reassuringly solid thump, but she forced herself to release her death grip on the front of his shirt. She uncurled her fists and straightened her fingers, flattened her palms on his chest.
She became intensely conscious of the fact that their wet clothes gave very little protection. Every inch of her body was molded to him, the hard tips of her breasts were squashed flat against his chest. She started to pull back, but Raven had caught her face between his hands. He swept his thumbs over her cheekbones then gently pushed a strand of dripping hair from her temple.
Her pulse missed a beat. There was an ache in her chest that had nothing to do with the water she’d swallowed and everything to do with the tender expression on his face.
“Cats never like water,” he said softly. “It’s over. Well done.”
His gaze flicked to her lips. She tensed, sure he was about to kiss her, but he released her and stepped back instead. She swayed but remained upright through sheer, stubborn pride.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”
It was just the buck-up she needed. Renewed energy flooded her body and she straightened her spine. “Of course not. I’ve never fainted in my life.”
He gave her a disbelieving look. If he could be so coolly unaffected by a near-death experience then so could she. She gathered her wet hair and wrung it out over her shoulder. “I know, I’m a failure as a woman. I can’t summon a half-decent swoon. I’ve tried, believe me. I can’t even cry prettily. My eyes go all red and puffy and my nose runs. It’s very unattractive.”
“Nerves of steel are far more useful.”
She opened her eyes wide in feigned astonishment. “Good God, is that a compliment? I might swoon, after all, from the shock.”
Raven smiled. “Ha. You’re fine. If you’re well enough to argue with me, you’re well enough to get back on that horse. Come on.”
“The day I lack the strength to argue with you, Ravenwood,” she said, “will be the day I leave this world forever.”
Chapter 16
Raven caught the horses, which were grazing contentedly nearby, and Heloise breathed a silent prayer of thanks that they hadn’t galloped away. The last thing she needed was to be stranded in the middle of this unforgiving landscape with him.
But Persephone had opted to stay close to the dubious protection of Hades, when she could have made a spirited bid for freedom. Heloise shook her head. Horses were stupid creatures.
Her clothes dried quickly as they rode. The breeches rubbed against her thighs but Heloise refused to utter a word of complaint. She’d asked for an adventure, hadn’t she? And this was certainly more exciting than sitting at home. She’d even faced one of her greatest fears and survived, although that was probably more to Raven’s credit than hers. Perhaps her wish to swim in the ocean one day wasn’t so far-fetched after all.
“Thank you,” she said suddenly.
Raven glanced up. “For what?”
“For bringing me with you.”
His eyebrows rose. “You’re thanking me? I just nearly drowned you.”
“I know. But if I’d never come with you, I’d never have felt as alive as I do now. Back in England, it was always like I was half asleep. Like I was just going through the motions of my life, waiting for something to happen. And now it has. So thank you.”
He chuckled. “You’re welcome.”
By the time the warmth leeched out of the sky and the sun dipped behind the mountains Heloise had lost all hope of a hot bath, soft pillows, and a down-filled comforter. Her gloomy predictions were confirmed when Raven gestured to a ramshackle building on the crest of a distant hill.
“Here we are.”
Heloise groaned as they rode into the deserted yard. The farmhouse itself was a burnt-out shell, nothing but four crumbling walls and some smoke-blackened rafters. Raven strode to inspect a small stone building on one side that, mercifully, still appeared to have an intact roof.
“Welcome to Hotel Ravenwood,” he said cheerfully. “I saw a well around the side. I’m going for a wash. Make yourself at home.”
Heloise watched in numb disbelief as he disappeared off around the side of the house, whistling softly. Sleeping in a barn was rather biblical, but she didn’t feel particularly holy; she felt filthy, sore, and so bone-weary she didn’t care if they slept in a ditch. She dismounted and hobbled over to peer through the open door, praying there were no animal inhabitants.
The barn had exposed rafters and a half loft above. Light filtered in through a few holes in the roof and pigeons cooed softly in the eaves. A few scrawny chickens fussed and pecked around, scratching in the dirt. The sweet, pleasant smell of hay filled her nostrils and she wondered what miracle had spared this barn but destroyed the house. A fortuitous wind?
Raven reappeared, his hair damp and his shirt clinging to his chest. Heloise glared at him, envying his cleanliness but too tired to move any farther.
He nodded to the loft. “You can sleep up there.”
There was no ladder. Without warning he simply spanned her waist and hoisted her up. She didn’t even have time to gasp. The ease with which he lifted her was astonishing. Flustered, Heloise scrambled up then rolled onto her stomach and peered over the edge at him. “Where are you going to sleep?”
“Down here.” He pulled the pistols from his back and placed them to one side, but retained the knife strapped to his belt. He settled back on the pile of straw directly beneath her.
“Tell me you take your dagger off to sleep,” she said.
“No. It’s always a mistake to disarm completely.”
What a telling statement that was. Heloise was certain he was talking about more than physical weaponry. The man wore armor even when he was naked. Still, the idea of him watching over her with a dagger in his hand gave her an odd, primitive thrill. She should not be finding this attractive. It was barbaric. She did not hold with violence except as an absolute last resort. And yet her chest tightened uncomfortably.
“Swear you won’t murder me in my sleep?” she teased.
He shot her a dark look that curled her insides. “If I want to kill you I won’t bother waiting until you’re asleep to do it.”
“That’s hardly reassuring.”
He smiled. “All right. I promise if I ever do decide to kill you, I’ll give you fair warning. You’ll be awake. And armed. And facing me. How’s that?”
“That’s very generous.”
“Sarcasm is not an attractive trait, Miss Hampden,” he chided softly.
She rolled over onto her back and settled into the straw. “Good thing I don’t aspire to attract you, then, isn’t it?” she retorted, then ruined the effect with a yawn. He chuckled and her lips curved upward in an answering smile. He really was fun to tease.
Heloise awoke to daylight and a chicken pecking at her shirt. She lurched backward with a startled cry as the equally surprised bird darted away with a disapproving squawk. Since there was no hope of going back to sleep she crawled to the edge of the loft and looked down.
Raven was lying on his back on the straw, eyes closed, head propped against his saddlebag, arms folded over his chest, and feet crossed at the ankle. A shock of dark hair fell over his forehead. His breeches fitted to his hips like a second skin and his shirt was pulled tight over his arms. His jaw and chin were shadowed with the beginnings of a beard. He looked a perfect rogue, lounging there, and her heart rate quickened. Why did he have to be so damned attractive?
His eyes were closed but she didn’t make the mistake of thinking him vulnerable. He was like the guard dog Anubis, no doubt alert to the slightest sound. She wondered if he ever truly allowed himself to relax.
“Admiring my manly physique?” he said without opening his eyes.
Heloise jerked, caught in her shameless ogling. Blood rushed to her cheeks. Revenge was close at hand, however, in the form of a hapless chicken. She nudged it with her elbow. It half fell, half flew downward, squawking in indignation, and landed square on Raven’s chest in an explosion of feathers.
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