Lord Trent: Love's Price Part 25

She hadn't ventured out much herself. She'd stuck to him like glue, like a leech on a thigh, and as they progressed, it became apparent that they were on a path humans had hacked through the foliage. Soon, they were in a clearing, staring at the remnants of a hut that someone had built from twigs and sticks.

Tristan approached the front-there was no door-and tried to enter, tried to bring her inside with him, but she dug in her heels.

"How did you find this place?" she queried.

"I was exploring."

"While I was napping? I thought you'd dozed off, too."

"No. I decided we should get off the beach, that we should have more protection from the elements." He kissed her sweetly, tenderly. "It's all right, Harriet. Don't be afraid."

"Who does it belong to? What if they come back?"

"They won't come back."

"How can you be sure?"

An odd expression crossed his face. He looked troubled, and she studied him, then gasped.

"They're dead, aren't they? The people who were here, they perished."

"I found...a...skeleton. I'm certain it was the occupant."

"What happened to him?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say he suffered an accident. He was lying at the bottom of a ravine."

She wondered if he was telling the truth. Had the person starved?

Since they'd arrived, she'd been so dazed that she hadn't focused on long-term concerns such as victuals or shelter. She'd been foraging on the beach, had been sipping rainwater from pools up on the rocks.

Could the island provide sufficient sustenance? Even if there was food aplenty, what did she and Tristan-a city dweller and a sailor-know about existing off the land?

"Were there signs of others ever being here?"

"No. We're quite alone."

As he uttered the word alone, his tone underscored their dilemma as nothing else had.

Like a spoiled toddler, she plopped down to the ground and started to cry. She hated to seem so weak, but she couldn't help it. She was weary and hungry and more miserable than she could ever remember being.

The soles of her feet were lashed with cuts from the rough sand. Salt from the ocean had crusted her hair. Her fair skin had been burned by the relentless sun, so she itched and chafed.

Her eyes were sore, her limbs were sore, and her entire body ached as if she was coming down with an ague.

"Are you crying again?"

"Yes."

"Stop it. I've told you before: I can't abide feminine hysterics."

"You haven't begun to see hysterics. I'm scared, and I'm unhappy, and I won't pretend otherwise."

He knelt down and took her hand.

"It's not as bad as all that," he claimed.

"It's pretty bad."

He gazed around and sighed. "Yes, I suppose it is. It could be worse though."

"How? How could it possibly be worse?"

"You could be trapped with an ogre-instead of me."

"You are an ogre."

"I promise I'll grow on you."

His attempts at humor failed, and she cried even harder. She wished she would simply wake up and discover that she'd been dreaming, but unfortunately, her quandary was all too real.

He sat and pulled her onto his lap. He was silent, holding her until the torrent was spent. As she calmed, he kissed her again and dried her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"No."

At her continued petulance, he laughed. "For pity's sake, Harriet. Buck up, would you? We have to make some plans."

"What sorts of plans?"

"I don't intend to perish here. Do you?"

"No."

"Then we must figure out how to carry on."

"I haven't a clue what to do."

"You'd be surprised how easy it will be. I've been scouting the area, and if we have to be stranded, the spot has ample bounty. There is fruit in the trees and a fresh-water stream. We may even catch some fish."

"Fis.h.!.+ You're mad. I'm from London; I don't know how to fish."

"Well, I do."

"You do?"

"Yes. When I was a boy, I pa.s.sed several summers in Scotland with one of my friends from school. His name was Aiden Bramwell, and his father was an African adventurer. He would take us camping in the wilderness. I realize I don't look it, but I'm quite capable in a pinch."

"I'm not capable at all."

He shrugged. "You'll learn to be."

"Yes, I imagine I will."

"And don't be sad. I can't bear it when you are."

"I'm sorry. I'm just so overwhelmed."

"One step at a time, Harriet, and I'll be right here with you. I'll never leave you alone. Not for a moment."

In her deteriorated state, the rea.s.surance was exceedingly welcome, and she wondered if he felt the strange connection that now flowed between them. She'd once heard that survivors of a disaster were irrevocably linked, and it appeared to be true-on her end anyway.

"Let's get up and get moving," he said, sounding like the s.h.i.+p's captain he was. "The day is waning, and we ought to accomplish a few ch.o.r.es before dark."

They rose and explored the immediate vicinity, then set to work, shoring up the dilapidated hut.

The poor, departed soul who'd dwelled in the shack before them had been a civilized man rather than a savage. He'd left behind a cooking pot, a fork, and many pieces of sharp gla.s.s that could be used for cutting. He'd made a broom and had woven gra.s.s mats and blankets.

Once the place was more habitable, she picked fruit, while Tristan gathered wood. He actually started a fire in the pit in the center of the floor, and at witnessing the feat, she was so amazed that she was speechless. By the time the sun dropped in the west, her condition-and her mood-were much improved.

Their situation was still dire, but it no longer seemed hopeless. Her hunger had been sated, she'd taken a bath in the stream to wash the salt from her skin. The light from the fire reduced her sense of isolation.

As Tristan stoked the flames, she yawned, her torso heavy with fatigue. She was sore in every muscle, down to the tiniest pore, and she wanted to rest for a week, but she was worried about their sleeping arrangements.

So far, they'd spent their nights snuggled together on the beach, but he'd been too weak to attempt any mischief. Obviously, after the energy he'd exhibited during their busy afternoon, he was rapidly recuperating.

Would they commence the s.e.xual affair that had nearly begun in his cabin? Should they commence it?

She was beyond caring what occurred between them. She only knew that she wasn't going to sleep by herself-no matter what!

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"I'm too exhausted for words."

A sound echoed in the trees-probably a branch falling-and she jumped, then relaxed as total silence descended again.

"It's disconcerting, isn't it?" he said. "Being here like this? It doesn't seem real. I keep expecting native savages or wolves to leap out and accost us."

"So do I."

"I'll stay in here with you," he promised, as if reading her mind. "Even if you demand I leave, I won't go."

"Thank you."

"Don't be afraid."

"I'm not. Not when you're with me."

"Simply remind yourself of how marvelously competent I am. I can be valiantly protective, too."

"Yes, you can."

"I won't let anything happen to you."

"Other than being tossed overboard by a pirate, you mean?"

"Yes, other than that."

The both chuckled.

He nodded toward a floor mat. "Lie down. I'll watch over you."

She was too weary to stand and walk to it, so she crawled over and lay on her side, her knees curled to her chest. As she was drifting off, he joined her, spooning himself to her back, an arm draped across her waist. He nuzzled her ear, her cheek.

"It's been quite an adventure, hasn't it?" he said. "I can't believe I'm alive."

"Neither can I. You must be made of steel."

"I'm too tough to kill."

After seeing him run through with a sword, she had to concur. She couldn't figure out why he'd survived, but she credited his robust const.i.tution, a lucky star, and divine intervention. Clearly, it wasn't his time to go.

"What will become of us?" she asked.

"I don't have any idea. I'm too drained to worry about it now."

"Do you suppose we'll ever be found? Tell me the truth."

"We can only hope."

She gazed at him over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I've been so grumpy."

"You haven't been." He paused, then grinned. "Well, maybe a little grumpy."

"I'm not normally such a dour person."

"Ha!"

"I was terrified. I thought you were about to die on me."

"Die on you? I told you: I'll never go anywhere without you, so stop being such a grouch."

"I don't mean to be. It's just that these past weeks have been...a bit much."

"That would be putting it mildly."