Page 13 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
“I can’t swim,” she rasped.
The comment was unnecessary, he would have seen that for himself but she needed to say something. She needed to know she could still breathe, could still talk, needed to know that she hadn’t died.
“I had guessed as much, thank you.” He sounded annoyed. Then he muttered a curse between his teeth.
Rowena closed her eyes, more worried than ever.
No doubt he would make her pay for this.
*
William had no time to think, no breath to spare, however much he wanted to curse the girl for forcing him to take a bath in the icy river.
For the second time in as many days he had narrowly escaped death. Both times it had been courtesy of this girl of unassuming build and angelic face. She had placed him in more danger in two days than his enemies had done in ten years. Who would have thought it? Certainly not him. When he’d spotted her during the banquet the evening before, he had not imagined for a moment she could pose any danger to him.
Which showed appearances could be deceptive. He had better not underestimate her.
When his breathing returned to normal he sat up to look at her—and bit back an oath.
Just like last night, she lay in front of him. And once again, the picture she presented threatened to compromise his sanity. Her dress clung to her body in a thoroughly indecent manner, highlighting her feminine curves. The cold of the river had made her nipples hard as pebbles and the wet fabric did nothing to hide the fact.
He clenched his jaw, trying not to imagine how good they would taste right now, cool and sweet. The soaked folds of her gown had gathered between her thighs, drawing his gaze to her most intimate place, the place he had caressed the night before—without ever staking his final claim. He inhaled a shaky breath.
What the hell was wrong with him?
This girl had tried to kill him yesterday, and now he had almost died in the river because of her. He was frozen and angry and still,still, all he could think about was losing himself inside her flesh. Despite the cold, he was hard, so hard it ached. Damn it all, she was supposed to be punished for the failed attempt on his life, but it seemed he was the one destined to suffer. Having her pressed against him earlier on the horse, all warm and slight, with her neck close enough for him to kiss had been torture. But there was worse. It wasn’t simply humiliating to have her see how much she affected him, it was also unwise. Because the moment she knew what power she held over him, she would try to exploit it to her advantage.
William gritted his teeth. He would have to come to his senses and stop being such a fool.
He stole another glance at her, lying by his side. Thankfully, her eyes were still closed. When she looked at him, he had himself under control once more.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, not bothering to ask if she was ready. They had to move before he did something he regretted.
“The men—”
“Don’t worry about them. We will find them at the castle now.” He would have a word with young Simon, who’d allowed his horse to run away, thereby landing them both into this mess.
William bent down to retrieve the girl’s cloak, then walked on. It was better if she followed him, not the other way around. Walking behind her undulating hips swathed in wet fabric would be too taxing. Besides, he knew how to get back to his castle. She didn’t.
Or maybe she did. After all, though he was ignorant of everything relating to her, she probably knew an awful lot about him. Whoever had sent her to kill him would have given her information about his habits and lifestyle. Who could that be? For the hundredth time he pondered the question and found no answer.
They walked in silence for a while then he heard her speak, her voice hesitant.
“Why did you jump in after me?”
“Why did I save someone who tried to kill me you mean?”
William snorted. Why indeed?
All he knew was that it had been the obvious thing to do, a gut reaction. Even before he’d heard Gilbert’s warning shout, he’d started running toward the girl. He had seen how wary she was around horses at Old Sarum and he’d guessed that having a mighty stallion coming at her on such a narrow bridge would frighten her at best, unbalance her at worst.
In spite of his forethought, he’d not reached her in time. The moment he’d stepped onto the bridge, she had toppled backward into the churning waters. He’d only had time to unbuckle his scabbard before jumping after her. Leaving her to fend for herself had not been an option.
“I didn’t like to see you drown,” he offered in a clipped voice.
“No. But people are not usually so keen to come to their murderer’s help.”
So… The girl did not shy away from her intentions, nor did she try to pretend to have changed her plans. A reluctant smile tugged at William’s lips. Whatever else she was, the Saxon was not easily daunted. Nor was she patient. She repeated her question with more than a hint of irritation.
