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The memory of what had happened, plus the fear of looking back and seeing him behind her, kept her moving.
“The rest you know. I ran into the swamp, and then you found me. I mean what I said earlier - thank you for rescuing me.”
She pulled away a little, then put a hand on his shoulder to lift herself higher. She’d intended to thank him by kissing his cheek but he turned to look at her when she moved and their lips met instead. Shock froze her for a second, her mouth pressed to his, their breath intermingling. Then the frozen shock melted into a tingling awareness as heat surged through her body.
Marsh’s arms tightened, one hand sliding to her lower back to press her closer as the kiss deepened. She gripped his shoulder, her mouth opening to him as he explored, tentatively as first and then with increasing urgency. Despite Harold’s rigid control, she’d been kissed before, but never like this. Never as if the other person craved her as desperately as a drowning man craved oxygen, and that craving fed her own.
She wanted more. More touching, more kissing, more of everything. Her hand slid up to tangle in his hair, but then his hair wove around her fingers. The unexpected sensation shocked her into breaking the kiss and pulling back to look.
Not his hair, she realized, but a few of the small vines that mingled with the honey-colored locks were wrapped around her fingers. When she tried to pull her hand away, they immediately released her.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I should have known better.”
“Better than what?”
“Better than kissing you. Better than exposing you to my monstrous side.”
The sorrow on his face was oddly reassuring, reminding her that despite his unique qualities he was still just another person.
“If you remember, I was the one who kissed you. And I don’t think you’re monstrous - just different.” She cautiously touched one of the vines again and it curled around her finger briefly before dropping away. “You surprised me, that’s all. Is this one of the things you inherited from your mother?”
“Yes and no. She was a true dryad - she could be fully human or fully a tree. I’m caught into between, part man, part tree, and my form never changes.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He shrugged, but despite the casual gesture, the sorrow remained.
“It means I am neither one nor the other - and no one wishes to claim me.”
I’ll claim you.
The thought popped unbidden into her mind, and she almost said the words aloud before she came to her senses. Despite their current enforced intimacy, she didn’t even know him, not really. Yes you do, the voice in her head whispered but she ignored it, resolutely pushing herself away from him. He let her go but the sadness on his face increased.
“I like your differences, but it’s been a long day… night… whatever. Would it be all right if I went back to bed? Or I could sleep here on the couch.”
“The bed,” he said firmly as he helped her to her feet.
She swayed, her ankle threatening to give out, and he quickly picked her up, holding her the same way he had done earlier.
“You need to rest your ankle as well. I shouldn’t have let you walk around so soon.”
“You were supporting me the whole time,” she pointed out, but he wasn’t listening, already carrying her through into the bedroom and placing her carefully on the bed.
“May I inspect your ankle again? To make sure it isn’t any worse?”
“Sure.”
His big hand closed gently around her ankle, large enough to encircle it completely, and she was suddenly conscious of the expanse of bare leg beneath the hem of the sarong - and the lack of clothing beneath it. It was both alarming and oddly exciting and a shiver raced down her spine.
He looked up from his examination of her ankle, studying her face instead. “Are you cold? Would you like a blanket?”
“I’m not cold. Is my ankle okay?”
“I don’t believe there’s any additional damage. I’ll rewrap it in the morning but for now I think it’s best just to leave it alone.”
Despite his words, his hand lingered, a big thumb gently stroking her calf. She had a sudden impulse to encourage that caress, to urge him higher, but before she could do anything so bold, he pulled the sheet over her and rose to his feet.
“Good night, little bird. Sleep well.”
