Page 24 of Desire's Ransom
She gasped as the cold water splashed her legs. “My revelation? Ha!” She dipped the knobbed end of herbatain the stream, flicking vengeful splashes back at him. “I don’t recall havin’ a choice in the matter, ye bloody oaf.”
“Oaf?” Deflecting her splashes with his forearm, he waded forward until he stood below the log at her feet. Then he grinned up at her, flashing teeth so bright it made her heart flutter. “So a cheatanda name-caller.”
“’Tisn’t name-callin’ if ’tis true,” she said breathlessly.
He clucked his tongue. But as he gazed up at her, his dark eyes danced with devilry. “I believe you’ve insulted my honor. And you should know, as a noble knight, I can’t let such an insult go unanswered.”
She smirked. His threat could not have been more empty. After all, he’d tossed away his sword. And he was practically groveling at her feet.
She leaned forward to whisper. “I believe ye’ve already answered an insult with an insult. After all, ye called me a cheat.”
“But youdidcheat.”
“And yearean oaf.”
“Hmm.” He gave her a thoughtful frown. “So you reckon we’re even then?”
Not quite. She still intended to relieve him of his coin. But she couldn’t do that while he was chest-deep in the stream.
So she gave him a conciliatory smile, tossed herbataonto the bank, and offered her hand to help him up out of the water. “Aye, I reckon we’re even.”
The instant she felt his hand close around hers and saw the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake.
“Well, I don’t,” he said. “You see, you’re still dry.”
“Ye wouldn’t.” Reading his intentions, she tried to pull her hand back, to no avail. “Ogma’s arse, don’t ye dare.”
“You know,” he confided, tugging her inexorably toward the water, “I think ’tis for the best.” He frowned in false concern. “It seems to me a dirty mouth like yours could use a good washing.”
She scrabbled backward, looking for purchase. “Ye bloody bastard! Let go o’—”
“See what I mean?”
“Nay!” she cried, though she was beginning to see the humor of the situation.
“Oh, aye,” he assured her with a grin.
His grip was iron-hard as he pulled her farther and farther forward, until she was teetering on the edge of the log. By then, her squeals of protest were infected by nervous giggles.
“Nay!” she tried one last time, but the word was swallowed up when she sprawled face-first into the water.
He never let go of her hand. Indeed, he pulled her up out of the waves an instant after she went under. Apparently he didn’t mean for her to drown.
She sputtered and, with her free hand, peeled the soggy hood back from her face. “Ye devil’s spawn!” she cursed, though the effect was ruined by the laughter that kept bubbling up out of her.
“What’s that?” he asked. “Still swearing? Do you need another dunking then?” He placed his hand on top of her head.
“Nay!” she shrieked. “Get the hell—”
“I think youdoneed another dip.”
“Nay! Let go o’ my bloody—”
“Such filth from such a sweet mouth,” he said, clucking his tongue.
She would have cursed again, but his compliment startled her. Nobody had ever told her she had a sweet mouth.
Gazing down at the beautiful, dripping-wet lass, Ryland couldn’t believe he’d thought she was a lad. Even with her uncommon height, her husky voice, and her expert fighting skills, standing next to her, there was no mistake she was every inch a woman.
