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“Amazing.” She smiled at him. “And I think it will make a lovely dress.”
After lunch she worked on her dress while he harvested tomatoes, cutting most of them into strips and spreading them on a clean cloth to dry in the sun. By the time they sat down for dinner, she’d finished a simple dress with narrow straps over her pretty shoulders and a little ribbon around her small waist.
“Isn’t this better?” she asked, twirling in front of him.
Naked would be even better, but he managed to restrain the comment and complimented her instead.
“My mother used to make my clothes when I was young, before she married Harold.” A shadow crossed her face. “He didn’t think much of handmade clothes and insisted she stop, but she was very talented. I’m glad she had a chance to teach me, even if I have a lot to learn.”
“You’re welcome to practice as much as you’d like. And I know some basics as well.”
“That probably means you can whip up a wardrobe for ten in an afternoon,” she said dryly and he laughed, the sound so rare it surprised him.
After dinner they sat on the porch, watching the fireflies below and the stars above as he told her about some of the additional improvements he had planned. She responded enthusiastically at first, but then her yawns began to exceed her questions.
“Time for bed,” he said firmly.
“I suppose so.”
He helped her to her feet and escorted her into the bedroom, but when he turned to leave she out her hand on his arm.
“You don’t have to leave. The bed is large enough to share. For sleeping, I mean,” she added quickly, the color rising in her cheeks.
It was undoubtedly a bad idea. Not only would the memory of sharing the bed with her be painful after she left, he could already feel his cock responding to the prospect of having her beside him, of perhaps sharing a few kisses in the darkness. But the thought of her lying beside him even for the short time they had together was too tempting to turn down.
“As long as you’re sure”
“I am.”
She gave him a quick smile, but he saw her hand tremble.
‘You’re safe with me, little bird.”
“I know. I’ll just go and get ready for bed.”
He hovered indecisively, then laid down at the far side of the bed, determined to allow her as much room as possible, even though he still took up a good deal of space. Since she was now familiar with the space, he didn’t bother lighting a candle. His own night vision was excellent, more than enough to give him a clear view when she emerged from the bathroom wearing her tank and underwear. They were no longer wet and transparent but it didn’t matter - he was only too aware of what they concealed.
She hobbled over to the bed and slipped under the sheet, her sweet fragrance filling his head. She fell asleep faster than he expected. He was still awake, holding himself stiffly in place when she sighed in her sleep and rolled against him, her small curves like a brand against his side.
It was going to be a very long night.
CHAPTER 9
Aweek later, Rorie watched the ceiling as the predawn light began to cast shadows from the surrounding trees overhead. For once she was awake before Marsh, his big body warm against her side. She’d awoken enough during the night to know that this was how they inevitably slept, but she was rarely awake to enjoy it. And usually he was out of their bed as soon as the sky began to lighten.
In many ways it had been a wonderful week. She’d enjoyed the beautiful, peaceful surroundings, and the simple but delicious food, but most of all she’d enjoyed being with Marsh. His skills never failed to impress her and over the past week, he’d started teaching her about preserving and storing food, the different healing properties of the herbs, and the different plants and animals that frequented the area.
She’d watched him splint a broken wing and bandage a fox’s wounded paw. The animals seemed to trust him, although they were far more suspicious of her, probably because she was too human.
They’d been together the entire time except for yesterday morning when he’d produced a pirogue he kept hidden in the reeds and left for an hour or so to leave a message about clothing on the trading network. She hadn’t been worried when she watched him go, but once he was gone, the isolation of his home no longer seemed as peaceful and friendly.
She found herself watching the bushes at the edge of the clearing and jumping every time a twig snapped or something rustled in the undergrowth. While she hadn’t forgotten about Harold, he no longer seemed as threatening - at least not while Marsh was present. As soon as he left, her fears came rushing back and she kept expecting to see him appear in the clearing.
By the time Marsh returned, she was limping back and forth on the shore and as soon as he stepped out of the boat she threw herself into his arms.
“What’s wrong, little bird? You’re shaking like a leaf.” He picked her up, his arms tightening around her as he looked around. “Did something happen?”
“N-no,” she managed to stutter, her head buried against his neck, breathing in his comforting herbal scent. “Just s-scared.”
