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‘You wouldn’t be thanking the Lord if you knew how much I want to box your ears right now. Have you gone stark, staring mad? If you thought Jamie was in the water, you should have fetched me.’
Her hands fell away, her face suddenly fierce.
‘Fetch you? Did you really expect me to leave him to the sea while I made my way to the castle? There was no time!’
‘I expect you to behave with more sense than a four-year-old!’
She closed her teeth with a snap and struggled to her feet. He saw the precise moment she realised her state of undress. Her eyes widened, a flush blooming upwards from the centre of her chest like dye.
‘My dress!’ Her voice cracked, her eyes filling with tears.
It was so absurd he laughed. She had nearly died. They both had, yet the loss of that horror which she admitted hating had the power to reach her.
‘That is the only good thing about this fiasco. It’s gone down to the depths of Hades where it belongs. If you had been wearing one of the new dresses we both would have had an easier time of it. Let that be a lesson to you to be less bullheaded, Jo.’
‘Oh! You are... You are hateful, Benneit Lochmore!’ She stalked away towards the path and he retrieved his discarded coat and followed, watching the way the fabric clung to a posterior as beautifully shaped as her breasts. This woman was made to be clothed in nothing but the sea. It was utterly wrong to be noticing her now, after what they had survived, or perhaps it was unavoidable. Whatever it was, it had him by the groin.
‘And you are singularly ungrateful. You do realise I saved your life, don’t you?’
She stopped, folding her hands over her chest, but did not turn.
‘I do. Thank you. I’m sorry.’
As far as admissions, thanks or apologies went, hers were abysmal, but he kept silent, his mind firmly on other things. Her elegant ankles were peppered with grains of sand and he watched them strain and stretch as she made her way up the path and kept his eyes from straying higher. But just before the crest she stopped abruptly. Unprepared, he bumped into her, his hands seizing the opportunity to clasp her arms. Despite the breeze, her skin was already warmer than his hands and the temptation to see if that warmth was evident elsewhere was so strong he forced himself to step back.
‘I can’t go into the castle...like this,’ she said, her voice still rough and strained.
Like this. God help him, she clearly had no idea how spectacular she looked ‘like this’.
A married woman had no right to be so innocent.
He detached his gaze from the way the wet chemise loved her breasts and reached to remove the strand of kelp that clung to her arm.
‘We could make you a kelp costume but I refuse to climb back down to the bay to fetch some. Don’t worry, my coat will be sufficient cover and you can enter through the tower door. If you are so unlucky as to be seen, tell them the truth.’
‘That I am a fool?’
He smiled at the return of Jo, uncertain he was glad for it.
‘That you were foolish, but very brave. I am not ungrateful, but if you ever do something like that again I will send you to your room for a week with nothing but dry bread and a book of sermons.’
Her laugh became a hiccup and then a sob and she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes.
‘I was so scared...’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t think.’
‘I know. Hush. You are safe now.’
He didn’t think either as he gathered her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She sagged against him and he felt the shudders of released tension course through her, filling his body with ideas of other shudders it was desperate to explore.
It was madness, unwanted, but it was undeniable. Right now, cold, wet, uncomfortable, exhausted from the strain of escaping the surf, he felt utterly alive and intent only on the sylphlike body pressed against him.
He wanted her.
No, he was starving for her.
It was not so very wrong, was it? She was a widow, experienced. Why shouldn’t they enjoy the little life allowed people in their position, with their limitations.
‘Jo,’ he murmured, and she shuddered again which gave him a perfect excuse to tighten his hold, splaying his hand lower. Too low. It moulded over her backside and before he could even stop himself he raised her against him, her abdomen pressing the cold cloth of his buckskins against his blazing erection. It should have cooled him, but it only added to the erotic contrast and a groan burst from him.
