A Perfect Hero (13 page)

Grabbing a length of linen, clean clothing, and a small cake of soap, she almost bolted out the door.

High above, birds sang from the treetops as she scurried down the path. It was a warm, beau
tiful day, but she was too agitated to enjoy it. Rounding a bend, through a stand of trees, the stream came into view. Beyond was a flower-clad hillside. Julianna lifted her skirt and stepped over a gnarled root. The sight of a pile of clothing made herstopshort.Aflutterofmovement caught her eye.

Slowly she raised her gaze. Unaware of her presence, Dane was floating lazily on his back. Movement was impossible. Her throat con
stricted. He was naked.
Naked
. Her mind grap
pled, but logic prevailed.
Dolt!
chided a silent voice.
How else is he to bathe
?

Therewasasplash, then he wasonhis feet. Tossing the water from his hair, he started toward the bank. Looking up, he caught sight of her.

It was too late to run. Too late to hide. She’d been caught, as surely as a hare in a trap.

“This is an unexpected pleasure, kitten. Did you come to join me after all?”

Julianna couldn’t have moved to save her soul. Her pulse was clamoring. Her heart was thud
ding in her ears, thick and heavy.

She swallowed the dryness in her throat. “You were so long, I-I thought something was wrong. I thought something had happened.” By God, she wouldn’t act like a child, either embarrassed or silly or flighty. She would neither gape nor gasp. She had no intention of giving herself away. No, she would not reveal that he was the first naked male she’d confronted in her life—and to be sure, it was a sight she knew would remain burned in her memory for a long time to come.

The water was placid and serene. She wished he hadn’t stopped where it was so deep. Daring as the thought was, she didn’t care. She would have loved the chance to study his form at leisure, to indulge what was surely a wanton curiosity. Not that she cared, surprisingly enough. As it was, all she could do was stare.

He was overwhelmingly masculine, his skin sleek and shiny wet. An angry, fiery red scar marred his shoulder. Seeing it, a surge of regret shot through her. Julianna found herself possessed of the urge to run her fingers over it, to press her lips upon it and kiss away the hurt and pain.

Her gaze slipped lower. Droplets of water trapped in the hair on his chest glittered in the sunlight. A quiver tore through her, and she licked her lips. His belly was taut and defined by hard bands of muscle. Below, the water lapped at the ridge of his hips, hiding his—

“Kitten,” he said softly.

She dragged her gaze up at the sound of her name. It gave her a start to realize he’d been watching her all the while.

Their eyes caught—and held. “Kitten,” he said softly, “are you certain you won’t change your mind?”

Her cheeks burned. Wordlessly, she shook her head.

“As you wish then.” Bold as you please, he be
gan to wade from the stream.

Julianna sucked in a breath and hastily turned her back. If it was of no consequence to him that she saw him naked, why should it matter to her? Oh, but she longed to give in to temptation! For in her mind’s eye, she could still see the outline of a shockingly brazen masculinity. Little wonder that her newfound courage was nowhere to be
found. Nay, she wasn’t quite so bold as she would have liked.

A few steps behind her she could hear the rus
tle of clothing. Nonetheless, she actually jumped when he laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s quite safe now.” His voice was laden with amusement.

When she turned, a maddening smile lurked on his lips.

“A pity you didn’t take me up on the offer, kit
ten. I venture to say that we should do very well together, you and I.”

Oh, the insufferable wretch! His high-handedness provoked a rebellious response.

“I didn’t come to see you,” she said tartly. “I only came for—for a bath!”

And now it seemed she had no choice but to follow through.

“In that case, I shall be happy to stay and scrub your back.”

Julianna’s eyes flashed. She bestowed on him a haughty stare.

“No?” He remained where he was, his boots planted firmly. It appeared he was undaunted, the rogue!

“No,” she informed him flatly. “And I trust you will not spy on me when you think I’m not looking.”

“Kitten, you wound me, that you think so little of me,” he said lightly. He executed a smart bow and dropped a cake of soap into her palm. “But
should you change your mind, you have only to

call my name.”

“I will not,” she responded tartly.

“Ah, but a man can hope, can he not?”

Oh, but he was infuriating . . . infuriatingly disarming! Julianna watched him as he ambled toward the forest. Any fool would know better than to accept the word of a highwayman. Why should she believe he would honor his word?
Why indeed?
asked a voice in her mind.
Because you know he will
, answered another.
Whatever else he was, he was a gentleman
...Ach, but it made no sense! Why did she persist in regarding such a man in a such a way?

Odd, how her heart blustered and squalled, like a storm at sea.

Quickly she disrobed and waded into the stream. The water was freezing; she gasped in shock. Certainly she would not linger, as Dane had been wont to do. Sinking down, she washed hastily, dunking her head beneath the surface to wet her hair. Chilly as it was, it was wonderfully refreshing to be clean.

She dried hurriedly with the length of linen, shivering a little as she drew on her gown. Seating herself on a flat-topped boulder, she pulled her hair over her shoulder, wrung it out, and tugged her comb through the wet strands. As she un
rolled her stockings up over the arch of one foot,
a sound behind her snared her attention. She turned sharply.

Confound it! Had she been wrong about Dane? She scanned the forest, her lips pressed to
gether. Overhead, a bird dipped and wheeled and turned in a vibrant blue sky. A leaf floated lazily down to the forest floor.

There was nothing.

It was silly, to think that someone was watch
ing her. Pushing aside her uneasiness, she quickly gathered up her clothing and the wet toweling, then left the stream. When she reached the cot
tage, she crossed the clearing. Maximilian was sitting at the base of a stout oak. He rose and snaked between her feet, rubbing himself against her ankles. Reaching up on tiptoe, she draped her gown across a low-hanging branch so that it could air out. She’d just finished hanging the wet linen when Maximilian yowled and bounded to
ward the cottage.

She glanced down in surprise. “Maximilian!” she said with a laugh. “Whatever has gotten into you?”

When she looked up, she realized they weren’t alone. A large dog stood on the other side of the clearing.

Her smile froze. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled, as if in warning. She had never been afraid of strange animals. Growing up at
Thurston Hall, she’d encountered many. But this one was filthy, his long hair matted with bram
bles. Chills ran up and down her spine.

A low growl vibrated deep in the animal’s throat. His lips pulled back, baring his fangs. Saliva dripped from his mouth. Snarling vi
ciously, he crouched back on his haunches, his eyes wild, as if preparing to spring.

Julianna had already begun to move toward the cottage. Her steps quickened, but she was afraid to move too suddenly. The door was ajar. She gauged the distance. Could she make it before—

The animal lunged.

Her slipper caught on an exposed root. She went down hard, jarring the breath from her lungs. Instinctively, she tried to lurch upright. Her hem snagged on the jagged root. She tugged frantically, dimly aware of the cloth tearing. But she was still caught, and she came down hard yet again.

A jagged cry caught in her throat. “Dane!” she heard herself cry. “
Dane!
”

It all happened in a haze. Dane appeared in the doorway. From the corner of her eye she saw the dog barreling toward her.

A deafening explosion seared the air.

In midleap, the mongrel dropped to the ground scant inches from her face.

“Julianna! Christ, are you all right?”

Julianna blinked, struggling to focus. Her head
swam giddily as she was hauled to her feet. Slowly, she turned her head and looked down. The mongrel lay at her feet, sprawled limply on his side. His eyes were still open, his teeth bared. A sticky stream of blood was still spreading, min
gling with the dust.

Her stomach heaved.

“Julianna!”

Her gaze shifted back to Dane. Stricken, she regarded him. “You killed him,” she said faintly. And then again: “You killed him.”

Dane reached for her. “Kitten—”

The word sparked something inside her. Her eyes seemed to blaze. She wrenched away.

“Julianna! What the devil?” Strong hands closed over her shoulders.

Julianna turned on him. Her fists rained against his chest. “You didn’t have to kill him!” she cried, over and over and over. “You didn’t have to kill him!”

“Julianna! He was mad. He would have at
tacked you! My God, if he’d bitten you...I had to!”

Her expression was wild. She was in a frenzy, pummeling him for all she was worth.

Uttering an explosive curse, Dane caught her wrists. “Kitten!”

“Don’t!” she screamed, a cry torn from deep in her vitals. “Don’t call me that!”

Hard arms closed around her, capturing her
flailing arms and pinning them to her sides. “Ju
lianna!” His tone was razor-sharp. “Stop this!” She didn’t even hear him. “
Julianna!
”

Dazed, her head fell back. She looked at him as he scoured her features.

“What is it? What the devil is wrong?”

As quickly as they had erupted, her struggles ceased. All the fire went out of her.

Her eyes squeezed shut. She slumped against him. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

And then she began to cry.

Ten

ane would not soon forget the terrified scream that brought him crashing out the door of the cottage, nor the sight that met his eyes. Christ, if he hadn’t had the presence of mind to grab a pistol . . . In the weeks before Wa
terloo, one of his men had been bitten by a mad dog. His death had been horrifying, sad, tragic— and excruciatingly painful. To think that Ju
lianna might have suffered the same end...But he dare not think of that.

His features grim, he picked her up and carried her into the cottage, ignoring the ache in his shoulder.

He kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot. He was bewildered, alarmed, stunned by the way she’d lashed out at him. The shock of
nearly being attacked was understandable. Even her near hysteria was understandable. What the devil was wrong?

Her face had gone pasty white. One look in her beautiful blue eyes, and he had the eerie sense she had retreated to another time, another place, where the remnants of something horrible bat
tered her mind and heart.