Page 23 of Her Cruel Redemption

But at that thought, I pulled back with a jolt, like his hands were suddenly burning. Confusion clouded his expression, and I turned away to keep from seeing it, pulse thundering, heat flushing my neck and cheeks.

‘I think I can hear a stream,’ I muttered, walking onwards. ‘We can refill our water cans if we find it.’ He followed me after a moment, and I bit the inside of my cheek as I mentally chastised myself for being so stupid. What was I afraid of? That my nurse would come around the corner and catch me doing something I shouldn’t? That my father would punish him for coming too close to me, the way he once punished a stable hand who’d taken time to befriend me? I felt a twist of guilt and grief for even thinking that. My father was dead. It wasn’t fair to resent him.

Maybe I was just afraid of what I might want if Elias were to keep kissing me.

We came upon the stream I’d heard quite suddenly, its clear waters throwing glints of orange sunset from its surface as it meandered through the woods. Elias immediately knelt on the bank, plunged his cupped hands into the water and splashed it all over his face. ‘That’s better,’ he said, running fingers through his hair and shaking off the excess. ‘I feel like I’ve got a layer of dirt as thick as my forefinger all over me.’

I knelt next to him and dipped fingers in the water. ‘It’s so cold!’

‘It’s not that bad.’

I laughed as he flicked water at me, hands raised to defend myself. ‘Stop!Youget in if you think it’s not cold.’

‘Alright.’ And with no more warning than that, he shed his coat, took a hold of the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He rose to his feet, tossing it to the ground so casually, and when his hands went to the waistband of his trousers I quickly stood and took several steps back, arms crossed tightly across my chest, as though I had to lock my hands away. I was so glad he wasn’t looking at me, couldn’t see the stricken way I stared at him as he kicked off his shoes and stripped down to a pair of linen drawers, knee length and fastened with a drawstring at his waist. He hissed as he waded into the water and shuddered when the water reached his waist. ‘Right, it’s really cold,’ he said, turning back to me, chafing at his arms with his hands. ‘But come in anyway.’

I stood completely frozen, not knowing how to answer. I wanted to say something clever or funny. I wanted to be brave enough to do as he had just done, to strip down to my underclothes like it was nothing and walk boldly into the stream. ‘I don’t want to get wet,’ I mumbled, staying planted firmly up the bank.

‘Not even if it means being clean?’

I only smiled in reply, shaking my head. And I wrestled with trying to understand my trepidation as he ducked below the water, emerging again with a yelp, scrubbing the dirt of the road from his arms. I couldn’t help watching the way the water ran down the curves of his chest, the way his bronze skin glistened, and all I wanted to do was touch him. After a few minutes, he climbed out again, shaking the water off.

‘Better?’ I asked.

‘Much better.’ He grinned, reaching for me. Caught my hand. Pulled me towards him.

I shrieked as he wrapped his wet arms around me. ‘Stop! You’re freezing!’ I laughed, squirming as he burrowed his cold face into my neck.

‘And you’re warm.’

‘I was sensible enough not to get in the water.’

‘And now you’re wet anyway.’

He drew his face out of the crook of my neck and kissed me slowly, softly, his lips still chilled from the stream but his breath warm. He tasted as cold and clear as the water, and with my fingers splayed against his impossibly bare chest I could feel the thud of his heart.

‘This isn’t fair,’ I murmured, breaking the kiss, ‘at least your clothes are still dry.’

‘Take yours off and you can wear mine.’

That sobered me up very quickly. My heart began to flutter. My body stiffened even as my legs felt too weak to hold me up. He seemed to sense the change, drawing back to search my face.

‘Gwin, what’s wrong?’

My mouth was suddenly so dry. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’ My tongue felt swollen and clumsy.

‘Then why have you clammed up like that?’

I dropped my gaze from his, but only ended up staring at his throat, which didn’t help alleviate my intense awareness of how little clothing he was wearing.

‘Am I making you uncomfortable?’

‘No,’ I said immediately. ‘I’m just…’

‘Afraid of me?’ he finished for me when I couldn’t find the words, releasing his hold on my waist.

‘It’s not that. Not at all,’ I protested as he took a step back, and that breath of space between us felt like a gaping canyon because he’d given it to me so I wouldn’t feelafraid.But Iwasn’t afraid.‘It’s… I suppose… I’d never be allowed… you see…’ I couldn’t complete any of my thoughts. My cheeks were flaming hot with embarrassment. ‘If anyone knew I was here with you like this, it would cause me a lot of trouble,’ I finally blurted out. ‘Human culture has rules around the way unmarried women can behave.’

‘And those involve never being caught alone with a half-naked man?’

---