Page 17 of Desert Island Duke

The land started to rise almost immediately, and they were forced to scramble up muddy banks and rocky outcrops. Tangled tree roots provided countless handholds, but wet leaves and slippery slopes made progress slow.

They found the place where their trickle split off from a larger stream, and continued following that uphill.

At one particularly rocky part Hayworth reached back and offered Caro his hand. Her heart fluttered as she took it, and she marveled at his strength as he effortlessly pulled her upward. Her attention snagged on the play of sinews in his forearm—he’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt up—but just as she was wondering what they must feel like, her foot slipped and she scraped her knee on the jagged rocks.

“Owww!” Her shout was as much annoyance at her own stupidity as it was due to pain.

“Careful!” Hayworth hauled her up the last rocks and onto more even ground.

She hopped on one leg, then grabbed a nearby tree for support as he dropped to his knees in front of her and caught her ankle.

“Hush!” he commanded, anticipating her disapproval. “Let me look.”

He pushed up the bottom of her dress without waiting for permission, and she bent to inspect the damage. Her stockings had protected her knee a little, but a fair-sized scrape oozed blood, staining the ripped white cotton a deep red.

Hayworth made a clucking sound with his tongue. She wasn’t sure if it was meant to be chiding or sympathetic. She winced as he scooped a handful of cold water from the stream and washed the wound, but pushed him away as soon as he’d finished his ministrations. He took his time releasing her ankle.

“Sure you don’t want me to kiss it better?” he teased.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

He stood and peered down at her with a frown. “I know. But you still need to tend to it. Wash it in salt water when we get back to the beach. The last thing we need is for you to get an infection out here with no access to any medicine.”

Caro blushed, embarrassed by her own carelessness, and relished the sting in her knee. She deserved it for being an ogling idiot. She, more than anyone, knew that the jungle, while beautiful, could be deadly.

Hayworth, however, seemed to have forgotten his irritation. He turned his head and held his hand up as if for quiet. “Do you hear that?”

Caro frowned. She could hear a faint rushing sound, but she’d assumed it was the frantic beating of her heart. Now she concentrated, it was plainly audible above the general noise of the forest.

“It sounds like a waterfall,” she said, excitement lifting her tone.

Hayworth caught her hand. “It does indeed. Come on!”

Chapter 11

With Caro in tow, Hayworth pushed through the jungle, staying close to the banks of the stream. The sound of rushing water grew ever louder until they burst out of the undergrowth and into a clearing bathed in sunlight.

“Oh, goodness!” Caro’s mouth opened on a gasp of delight.

A torrent of water rushed from the top of a rocky cliff and tumbled at least thirty feet into the pool before them. A fine mist spray clouded the base of the falls, creating a permanent rainbow where the sun caught it.

“Do you think it’s safe to swim?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the sound of the water.

“I don’t see why not, as long as we mind the slippery rocks.” Hayworth sent her one of his irresistible grins. Before she could blink, he’d tugged off his boots and stockings, stripped off his shirt, and began making his way carefully into the pool.

Caro bit back a smile. She’d never met anyone who could undress so quickly.

He set off swimming with long strokes toward the base of the falls, his strong arms pushing against the current, then turned to face her, treading water.

“What are you waiting for?” he shouted. “I promise I won’t look at your unmentionables.”

To emphasize his point, he turned so his glistening shoulders faced her.

After a brief moment of indecision, Caro threw propriety to the wind. She was desperate for a swim, and the water looked incredibly inviting. She stepped behind a tree, removed everything except for her shift, and peered out at the pool. Hayworth’s back was still turned, so she made her way gingerly over the rocks and into the water.

Compared to the sea, it was bracingly cold, and she shrieked as she made the final plunge. She came up for air, then ducked below the surface again, fanning her hair to rinse out every last grain of sand and salt.

“Oh, that feels so good!”

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