Simon tossed his tunic to him. “We should set up a watch to keep an eye out for that boar.”
“Aye. As well as other things that might come upon a man when he least expects it.”
That got her to look at him again. Her cheeks rosy, she narrowed her dark green eyes on him.
An overwhelming urge to kiss her seized him and if they were alone, he doubted he would have had the strength to deny it. Instead, he focused his attention on Simon and not her moistened lips.
So, she had come to spy upon him.
In truth, he was flattered. And most dreadfully aroused by the knowledge that she had watched him. What he truly wanted to know was had she liked what she’d seen?
Never before had he cared what a woman thought of him. But for some reason, he wanted her to desire him.
Are you mad?
Aye, he must be. There was no other explanation. The last thing he needed was for her to desire him any more than she already did. Indeed, ‘twas all he could do to stay away from her as it was.
With that thought in mind, he grabbed his tunic, handed her the bucket and quickly dressed himself.
“We’d best get back to camp before the boar returns,” Draven said, then led the way.
Emily followed behind Draven with Simon by her side. As they walked back to camp, it dawned on her what she’d done while they faced the boar.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she had trusted Draven with her life. Never before had she done such a thing. She’d always been adventurous, but never to the point of such foolishness as she had shown with the boar.
But in her heart, she had known he wouldn’t allow her to be harmed. And he had proven her right.
“Thank you, Lord Draven.”
He looked back at her over his shoulder. “For what?”
“For saving me from the boar.”
His look softened. “I should say the same for you. Had you not splashed, I’m sure I’d be tending a severe wound right now.”
“Oh, Draven,” Simon said in a falsetto as he clasped his hands together and held them to his shoulder. He gave Draven a worshipful look. “You’re my hero, too!”
Simon sniffed as if he were holding back tears and threw his arms about Draven’s shoulders. “If not for you, that mean old boar would have eaten me alive.”
Draven pushed Simon away from him. “Get off me, you nimble-pated gelding.”
“But Draven,” Simon said again in his falsetto, “You’re my hero. Give me a kiss.”
Draven ducked Simon’s embrace and stepped behind Emily. “What are you? Moonstruck?”
“Fine then. Here, Emily, you kiss him for me.”
And before either one knew what Simon was about, she found herself tossed into Draven’s arms. Their bodies collided.
Draven’s arms encircled her, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe as she stared up into those startled blue eyes.
When Draven made no move to kiss her, Simon tsked his tongue.
“Fine then,” Simon said, pulling her out of Draven’s embrace and into his own. “Let me show you how a kiss is given, brother.”
Simon dipped his lips to hers, but before he could make contact, Draven grabbed his shoulder. “If your lips so much as pucker near hers, I will geld you, brother.”
Giving her a wink, Simon gronned. “Whatever you say, brother dearest. Whatever you say.” He let go of her. “But I say this. If such a tender maid saved my life, I think I could find a better way to thank her than with mere words.”
