When Lilah returned with two seashells full of water, Joss was standing outside the crude shelter. He was half turned away from her, his fists on his hips as he stared out to sea. His black hair fell in disordered curls around the nape of his neck, his shoulders were wide and gleaming in die bright sunlight, his arms corded with muscle. His waist was hard and narrow, and the nether regions of his body discreetly hidden by the sandy black breeches looked just as leanly supple as the rest.
As she stared at him, Lilah’s step faltered. When she resumed walking it was at a slower pace. Since nursing the sick aboard the Swift Wind, she knew much more about the anatomy of the male body than she had when shed left Virginia. Bare chests, backs, arms and even legs and other less mentionable parts were no strangers to her anymore. But the brief, necessary glimpses of male flesh that she had been exposed to on the ship had been strictly impersonal. Seeing Joss standing there bare to the waist, muscles sleekly powerful beneath smooth skin, the thick wedge of hair on his chest stretching from one flat brown nipple to the other before narrowing down to disappear beneath the waistband of his breeches-that was personal. He was magnificently, beautifully male, and just looking at him made her mouth go dry.
It was shameful that the mere sight of his unclothed chest should affect her so. Just looking at him aroused the most wanton feelings inside her, and she was not a wanton female. To treat him strictly as a servant would be the hardest thing she had ever done in her life.
Joss heard her approach and turned to look at her, his hands dropping to his sides. His eyes caught hers, held them, then took on a bright emerald gleam that Lilah feared could see clear through to her heart. She returned his stare, determined not to let him know how vulnerable he made her feel. Lilah took a firm grip on her courage and walked right up to him, holding out one of the shells.
"Water?"
Joss accepted the shell without a word, with nothing more than a measuring look, then lifted it to his lips, and drank. Just watching the tilt of his chin and the movement of his throat as the water worked its way down unsettled her. He was far too handsome for his own good-or her peace of mind. When he finished drinking, he dropped the shell to the sand and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Lilah felt that simple gesture all the way down to her toes.
She had to get away from him-soon-or this thing that existed between them would explode. She wanted his mouth on hers again more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
"Thank you." His eyes fixed on hers again, as intent as a cat at a mouse hole. Unnerved, Lilah lifted the other shell to her own mouth and drank from it without ever so much as tasting the slight brackishness of the water. When she lowered it, it was to find that his eyes had shifted to her mouth. Her lips tightened in instinctive defense even as her eyes flew to his. Soft blue eyes clashed with hard green ones for a long moment while swirls of an unspeakable tension seared the air between them. Then Lilah deliberately broke eye contact, looking down at the empty shell in her hand. For something to do she bent to nestle the shell in the sand, taking as much time and care as if it had been made of priceless crystal. The physical action gave her time to school her expression, and give a stern lecture to her racing heart.
When she straightened it was to find him heading off down the beach. For a moment she stared after him, nonplussed, and then she picked up her skirts and ran to catch up.
"Where are you going?" she gasped when she reached his side. He barely glanced at her. Certainly he did not stop, or even slow his long strides.
"There's probably a village around here somewhere. I'm going to find it. Far be it from me not to restore your ladyship to civilization as quickly as I can."
There was a hard edge to his voice that revealed his anger. As aware as he always seemed to be of her thoughts, he had undoubtedly divined the reasons behind her flustered withdrawal. Of course he was angry. He had not yet accepted what he was, but it would come in time, just as it would for her. She had only to be strong; just until they were back in the normal structure of society, and she was no longer faced with this unsettling temptation. Danger lay in being alone with him outside the boundaries of her world.
"You really shouldn't be walking with a head injury in this heat." It was all she could do to keep up with him.
"What?" He glanced down in simulated surprise. "You mean the lady is actually concerned about her slave? Why, Miss Lilah, you surprise me!"
She stopped to glare at him. His mocking falsetto infuriated her. He kept on walking. Fuming, she caught up with him, determined not to speak until he did. Certainly she would never again express so much as a syllable of concern about his well-being! If he wanted to kill himself, that was his business!
The pace he set slowed fractionally as the sun rose until it was almost directly overhead and the heat be- came stifling. Hot little vapors rose from the sand to quiver in the air ahead of them. Not even the breeze off the ocean was enough to cool the air. Feeling her nose burn, Lilah stopped again. Watching to make certain he did not look around, she reached beneath her skirt to untie the tapes of her petticoat and step out of it. Then she wrapped the folds of white linen around her head to form a crude sunbonnet. With her petticoat on her head instead of around her legs, she felt much cooler, and if her modesty suffered, so be it. She was not fool enough to invite a heatstroke even if he was!
When Lilah caught up with him, Joss took one look at her and laughed rudely.
"How indelicate, Miss Lilah, to flaunt your underwear in public that way! Naughty, naughty!"
Furious, she stopped dead, glaring at him, but he kept walking. "Oh, shut up!" she yelled after him, the rudeness of her remark making her feel a degree better. If he even heard, he gave no indication of it. He just kept walking.
That infuriated her more than anything he could have said or done. If he was determined to be difficult, she would cooperate, she pledged grimly. Catching up with him again, she stuck her nose up in the air and trudged along beside him, waiting for his next broadside with something closely akin to relish. As he ignored her she felt herself growing crosser and crosser. She had never felt closer to committing an act of violence in her life!
They walked for nearly three-quarters of an hour without so much as a word passing between them. So far they'd seen no sign of life except for birds and crabs and lizards. If it hadn't been for Joss, Lilah knew she would have been frightened. But at the moment she was just too furious to have room left for apprehension about their situation.
Climbing over one of the small, grassy dunes that divided the beach into sections, Lilah stubbed her toe on a rock. Yelping, she hopped about on one foot, clutching its injured mate in her hand. Joss cast her a single glance that correctly assessed the degree of her injury, and kept going. Lilah's temper crackled. She would have plopped down on the sand there and then and refused to take another step if she hadn't been certain he would simply go on without her.
Limping, she followed him, fixing that wide back with a killing glare. Finally she had to skip to catch up. When she did so, she glared at him in earnest.
"You could at least be civil!" she snapped.
He glanced down at her, his expression unpleasant. "I don't feel civil."
"That's patently obvious!"
"A slave is allowed not to talk, isn't he? I don't have to entertain you as well as get you back to your fianc6, do I? Or do I? Please instruct me. I haven't been a slave very long, you know, and I'm not quite up on the etiquette involved."
His sarcasm made her do a slow burn that had nothing to do with the sun beating down on her head.
"You are the most infuriating, arrogant, obnoxious, overbearing…"
"Funny, that is exactly what I would have said to you," he said at last, stopping. "If I wasn't a slave, that is."
Those emerald eyes were blisteringly hot with suppressed rage. Lilah sputtered, unable to come up with a sufficiently cutting reply.
Joss was not in a mood to wait. He turned and stalked off again, leaving Lilah nothing to do but glare after him until he walked out of sight as the beach made another curve. Then, picking up her skirts, she trudged in his wake. Her uppermost thought was how much she would like to find a rock with which to bash him over the back of that silky black head!