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Cold Water
The sound of rushing water led Adelina and her companions off the narrow track they were following to a moorland burn. “Thank God,” were the only words she could produce from her parched throat. She was dying of thirst, despite the fact Roland had carried her for what seemed like hours through prickly gorse bushes and swathes of purple heather.
The men fell to their knees and dunked their heads in the swiftly flowing stream. She wished she could do the same, but she’d tumble in if her trembling legs failed her. She knelt beside the crystal clear burn and slurped ice cold water scooped up in one hand.
“I recognize you now you’ve cleaned the muck off your face,” she teased her brother, though her attention was on Roland as he shook water from his long, dark hair.
Raking his fingers through his locks, he looked up and caught her staring. Again, an unspoken alchemy passed between them when he smiled, but she suddenly became aware her brother was unfastening his gambeson. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Turn your back, or close your eyes, sister dear. I can’t stand the stench any longer. I’m going to take full advantage of this clean water.”
“Good idea,” Roland echoed, unfastening his own gambeson.
Adelina inhaled deeply. The teasing glint in her cousin’s eyes was outrageous, but it caused peculiar sensations in private places. Feeling equally playful, she arched her back, thrusting out tingling nipples. For the first time in her life, she knew desire for a man.
A little ashamed of her wanton behavior, she turned her back when Terric frowned.
Within seconds, she heard the splash when the men jumped into the stream. Their whoops of laughter brought a measure of relief to the dire situation. When they were children, she and her brother had often played in the shallow waves that broke on the beach below Melton Manor. Exhausted by the long uphill trek, she wished she could join her rescuers now.
Perhaps immersing her tired feet in the cold water might revive her strength and her spirits. After all, one of the men was her brother and the other—well, it was becoming clear Roland de Montbryce considered himself more than a distant cousin.
Throwing caution to the winds, she pulled off her battered shoes, peeled down the ruined silk hose and hoisted up her skirts.
Filling her lungs for courage, she turned to the water, completely unprepared for the sight that greeted her.
Standing in water up to their waist, both men stared at her bared legs, Terric with a degree of censure, Roland with undisguised fascination.
She licked her lips, fearing she might dissolve in a puddle of wanting. Roland was a beautifully made man, all lean muscle, dark hair plastered to his chiseled chest. His wet body gleamed in the weak rays of the early morning sunshine. She was in the presence of a Greek god come to life.
“Come,” he said, holding out his hand. “The water will take the ache from your feet.”
Terric nodded.
She sat down on the bank and dangled her feet in the stream. The icy cold took her breath away, but she hardly noticed, busy as she was wondering what the solution was to alleviating the ache in a much more intimate place.
* * *
Had they been alone, Roland would have confessed his feelings right there and then. Despite their brief acquaintance, Adelina had already captured his heart and his mind. She was everything he’d expected—beautiful, strong and courageous. His manhood’s enthusiastic reaction to the sight of her dainty bare feet and calves confirmed that his body had no trouble responding to her. The cold water had finally put paid to the arousal that had soared the first time she’d climbed onto his back. Now, it had returned with a vengeance.
However, he was as yet unsure of Terric’s feelings, although he couldn’t imagine why his cousin would object to Adelina marrying a Montbryce. Sadly, there was no future for either de Quincey in King John’s England.
“We can’t waste any more time,” Terric declared abruptly, wading to the bank.
Adelina’s naughty smile suggested she might watch them get out of the water, but she got to her feet and turned away. Disappointment niggled. Roland rather liked the idea of strutting naked in front of her.
Smiling at the vision conjured by such an outrageous thought, he followed Terric and hauled himself out of the water.
Shivering, they sluiced off as much water as they could, squatted to clean their boots with clumps of dry grass, then struggled to don their clothing.
Meanwhile, Adelina dried her feet with her skirts, put her shoes back on and stood, shading her eyes to scan the hills ahead. “Mandeville has to stop eventually,” she said. “He must be as exhausted as we are.”
“I don’t understand why he hasn’t waited for you,” Terric agreed. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone in pursuit behind us.”
“Perhaps he thinks I was recaptured,” she replied.
“So, he’s just going to keep on running into the hills?” Roland asked.
Terric shrugged. “I told you he’s a coward.”
