Page 17 of The Dream of Love
She screamed and tried to dart away from it but slipped and fell into the shallow water. Her head went under for just a few seconds before Adam caught her up in his arms and carried her to shore. “Remi, lass! Och, are ye all right?”
Ah, the protective Scot was back. But it took her a moment to stop sputtering and coughing before she could reply. “I think so.”
Her hair was soaked and falling over her face, so she took out the sagging pins, shook it out, and ran her fingers through it to brush the wet mass off her face. Her gown was clinging to her body. There was nothing she could do about it now. “Adam, I think something scratched my leg.”
“Let me see.” He set her down on the bench and lifted her gown as high as her knees. “Where, Remi?”
“My right calf. Perhaps it was only a trout rubbing against me. It startled me.”
“Did you feel a bite?” He cupped her leg in the palm of his hand and turned it slightly to inspect it. “I see scratches but no puncture wound.”
“I don’t think it bit me, just brushed against me. Oh, my goodness! Do you think it was a snake?”
“No, just a fish. Even if it was a snake, there are no poisonous ones around here.” He ran his fingers lightly along her skin. No snake bite would kill her, but his divine touch just might. Her heart was thumping so hard, it threatened to burst within her chest.
Fortunately, Adam was studying her legs and not her heaving bosom—an expression she’d learned from one of Lavinia’s naughty books. “You have a nasty scrape, Remi. The scratches are deep and broke through your skin. There’s a little blood. Let me wipe it off you.”
He withdrew a handkerchief from inside his pocket, pressed it lightly against her leg, and tied the handkerchief around it to form a makeshift bandage.
Then he looked up at her.
It was as though everything stopped in that moment. The wind no longer rustled through the trees. The birds stopped chirping. The water currents stilled. “Um, Adam. Will you help me back to Sherbourne Manor? Perhaps take me in through the servants’ entrance. I’m soaked and–”
“Remi, stop talking.” His big hand cupped her face, and he slowly eased closer to her.
“I only wish to explain that I’m wet and shouldn’t–”
“Stop talking.”
“Why?”
“Because I am going to kiss you.”
Chapter Eight
Adam was goingto kiss her!
Remi wanted to close her eyes, but at the same time wanted to keep them open to see what he was doing and learn from it. She had dreamed of him kissing her in a moonlit garden, but here by the river, in the sunshine, under a light breeze and birds chirping in the trees, could not be more perfect.
Except she was soaking wet, having slipped by the edge of the water and fallen under completely.
No one said she had to look perfect to be kissed.
And this was truer to her nature, for she had never been the biddable, sit-in-the-parlor-and-behave-like-a-proper-lady sort of girl.
Adam cupped her face in his hands and smiled at her.
She was going to savor the moment, for this might be the only kiss she would ever receive from him. Even if he regretted it and never spoke to her again…well, no, she wanted them to speak again. She wanted him to marry her and kiss her endlessly, but she would worry about that later.
She closed her eyes, deciding he was less likely to change his mind if she did not look him directly in the eyes. Besides, she was growing cold in these wet clothes and feeling the breeze against them. She wanted him to kiss her before her lips turned blue.
“Remi,” he said in an aching whisper, the one raspy word starting a little fire in her body that chased away her chill. He cupped the back of her head and circled his arm about her waist to draw her up against him.
He was getting his front all wet.
He did not seem to care.
His lips came down on hers, pressing against her mouth with surprising ardor, his kiss confident and deep. This was not a polite kiss, by any means. Nor was it too rough, just filled with smoldering heat and overwhelming tenderness.
