could with both arms and legs. By the time he’d completed the circuit, he was cursing himself for his rash action. Why hadn’t he waited for her to come to shore before immobilizing her? It couldn’t be because he half believed she’d set her sights on the shore far from where she’d gone in. No mortal could swim that far, could they?
Mortal?
He’d just begun another circle, wider this time, when something above him caught his attention. Looking up, he spotted a bird hovering some thirty feet over the lake and slightly to his right. Even as he told himself the small, gray bird’s actions didn’t concern him, he changed course. He stopped when he was directly beneath the bird, then curled his body into as tight a ball as possible and pushed down into darkness. His fingers reached out, fighting the water’s resistance. Before long, the effort used up the air in his lungs. Still, he delayed heading for the surface.
His lungs screamed, and strength seeped from his muscles. Then, just as he acknowledged he’d gone as far as he could, his fingertips brushed something. He closed a thumb and forefinger over whatever it was.
Hair.
Pushing down yet again, he ignored his burning muscles. More strands glided over the backs of his hands, prompting him to grab them. Hair filled the palm of his right hand. Holding on with his dying strength, he executed a far from graceful turn, hauling his burden with him. His left arm clawed at the water that was killing him. Every time he kicked, his feet brushed something warm and soft. Dark pain filled his head, and fear took bites out of what remained of his sanity.
Let her go. Save yourself.
But because his actions had sent her on death’s journey, he couldn’t.
By the time he broke the surface, every inch of his body was on fire. Drinking in all the air his lungs could hold, he treaded water. Only when he trusted his body to obey his commands did he pull the woman’s lean and limp body up next to his, careful to keep her head above water.
Turning her toward him, he shifted his hold so a hand was under her armpit. He brushed her hair out of her face and then placed the back of his hand against her nose.
She wasn’t breathing, wasn’t even trying to.
As a warrior-in-training he’d been taught how to place his mouth against a drowning victim’s and push air into the victim’s lungs, but if he tried that now, they’d both sink beneath the surface.
Time. Time was seeping away from them.
Turning her so her back was against his chest, he looped his arm over her breasts, his fingers gripping her armpit again. As soon as he was certain his hold was secure, he started for shore. She rested against his side, the back of her head on his chest and her face out of the water. Even with the passing seconds striking him like drumbeats, he forced himself to concentrate on making smooth strokes. Speed was vital but so was endurance.
Although the lake was trying to suck the warmth out of him, he felt hot. In contrast, her body was now too cool. But her skin against his was soft and smooth, and he nearly convinced himself he could feel her heart beating and her lungs filling and emptying, but maybe he was only deluding himself.
Again he looked upward. There was no bird.
Whether a bird or his imagination had led him to her became the most important thing he’d ever asked himself. At the same time, he repeatedly told himself it didn’t matter. Only keeping her from dying did.
Despite his protesting muscles, he refused to slow, let alone pause and rest. When, finally, his toes touched the muddy bottom, he nearly called out in relief. Half walking, half swimming, he brought her to shore and dragged her out of the water. Lying her on her back, he sank onto his knees next to her. There was no arrow, only a barely bleeding hole in her side. Obviously she’d pulled it out.
Mud coated her legs, and her hair flowed over her shoulders to cover the top of her breasts. Other than that, he had an unobstructed view of every bit of her youthful body. Because he’d yet to be beaten in battle and so had had his efforts rewarded, he’d seen more naked females than he could remember, but there was something different about her.
Not that it mattered. Pressing his hands against her cheeks, he turned her head to the side. Next he lifted her shoulders and angled her upper body in the same direction, thinking that might help get water out of her lungs. Everything seemed unreal to him. Surely he hadn’t just risked his own life trying to save a barely human creature.
Then she coughed, and relief rushed through him. After a moment, she coughed again, her slim form shaking with the effort. Water dribbled from the corner of her mouth. When her coughing became ragged, he turned her fully onto her side, holding on to her shoulder and hip to keep her in position. She spluttered and gasped, her breasts jiggling. Watching them, he tried to think of something comforting to tell her only to swallow the unspoken words. Just because he felt sorry for her and more than a little responsible, nothing had changed between his people and the Wildings. She was still his captive, potentially valuable merchandise.
When she stopped coughing, he rolled her onto her back again and released her. His arms and legs burned. His heart continued to pound against his chest wall, and his breathing hadn’t returned to normal. From the way she lay with her arms sprawled and legs limp, he had no doubt that the paralyzing poison was still in her system. Maybe, he pondered, that’s why she’d survived instead of drowning. Her body hadn’t had much need for oxygen.
Experience told him it would be a while before she could begin to move on her own, and now that her chest rose and fell, something shifted inside him. No longer being concerned for her life allowed him to thoroughly evaluate the creature he’d taken possession of.
Her breasts were remarkable. Instead of flattening completely against her chest wall, they remained firm and rounded. Her nipples were hard, dark nubs, undoubtedly because the cold water had made them that way. Seeing no reason not to, he caught one between thumb and forefinger. Until now, her eyes had been closed. As they slowly opened, he acknowledged how much effort she had to put into what should have been a simple act.
Curiosity tightened his hold on her nipple. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in air through flared nostrils. Her lips parted, but she made no sound. Strange. He hadn’t expected her to begin recovering so soon.
“I have you, Wilding,” he said. “You might not yet understand what’s happened, but you soon will. And when you do, you’ll do everything you can to get away from me. But you’re too valuable. My lord and shaman have need of you.”
She still wasn’t focusing on him so he pulled on her breast, drawing it away from her body. Her eyes widened even more. She went from staring at nothing to glaring at him. A chill settled against his back, nearly causing him to release her. But if she thought her dark, hate-filled gaze would frighten him, she was badly mistaken. Angry at her—and maybe a bit at himself for his reaction—he took hold of her other nipple and pinched it.
“You should have worn clothes,” he taunted.
Being able to control her this way restored him. Having control also reminded him of how long it had been since he’d fucked. He could take her now while she was helpless, spread her legs and bury his cock in her soft flesh, although maybe he’d first flip her onto her belly so he could take her from behind.
From out of the corner of his eye, he saw her fingers start to curl inward. It should be too soon for her to be able to move on her own, but maybe there was more to the Wildings than he and his companions had thought. After all, she’d survived what would have killed many women.
“Your nudity was your undoing,” he informed her, although he wasn’t sure she could understand him. “If you’d been dressed, I might not have decided to claim you.”
Her lips thinned, and her nostrils flared even more. Seeing how much she hated him was like standing in the sun on a summer day, revitalizing, invigorating. His flesh warmed. His muscles felt restored. Most of all, his cock awoke.
“I saved your life,” he said, forcing his voice to be calm. “Among my people, when one saves another,