It's one more part of nature and nothing more." Reilly let that statement settle in her mind before continuing. "Now I have to get your temperature down. The water from the spring is cool and I'm going to bathe you in it."
The raging fire that engulfed her was caused by a fever. Leah understood vaguely why she hadn't been able to escape the burning heat. Yet her modesty still wouldn't let her give in to his logic.
"Leaveâ" She was so weak she could hardly get the words out. "Leave my clothes on."
"I can't. You must have something dry to put on when you come out," Reilly answered. "Don't fight me, Leah. You're going to need your strength."
Her mind resisted, but her body surrendered itself to his expert hands. In a semi-conscious haze she was aware of Reilly bodily lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the water, her head resting against his naked shoulder.
Then she was immersed in water, cooling ripples washing her from head to toe. An arm around her waist kept her from sinking into the refreshing depths of the dammed pool. The overhanging branches of a small willow shaded them from the sun.
Time was in limbo, beyond measurement for Leah. At some point in her fever-induced stupor, she became aware that Reilly too was unclothed, but it didn't matter as long as the deliciously cool water continued rinsing her fiery skin.
Stirring restlessly, she tried to escape the stifling cocoon that held her tightly. She wanted the refreshing water of the pool to cool her again. A hand gently stroked her temple and settled along her neck. She was lying on the ground in Reilly's arms, the blanket wrapped around them.
"Sleep," he murmured near her ear. "Your fever has broken. You need to sleep."
With shuttered eyes, Leah relaxed against him. The warmth of his body turned into a safe haven instead of a furnace that she needed to escape from. She slept without dreams or nightmares.
Reilly awakened her once in the daylight to feed her some broth. She instantly went back to sleep. Later there was the sensation of him lying beside her.
The next time she opened her eyes, Leah discovered she was alone under the blanket with the sun well up in the sky. The snapping sound of a fire drew her gaze to the center of the miniature glade. Reilly was crouched beside the fire, stirring the contents of the pan sitting near it.
His bronzed torso was shirtless, his muscled chest and shoulders rippling a golden copper in the sunlight. A pair of snug-fitting denim levis covered the lower half of him. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced over his shoulder. The boldly chiselled face was more forcefully handsome than she remembered. Lazily his eyes met her look.
"Hello." The grooves around his mouth deepened with the familiar smile that crinkled his eyes.
"Hello," Leah returned, feeling self-conscious without knowing why.
"Are you hungry?" He poured the liquid from the pan into one of the small bowls.
"A little," she admitted, and tried to shift into a sitting position, only to discover she was weaker than she had realized.
"Lie down. I'll feed you," he said, lithely rising to walk over to her.
"That's squaw's work, isn't it?" An impish smile curved her lips.
The line of his mouth crooked in response. "It is, but an Indian is sometimes forced into the role when his woman is crazy with fever."
Her heart lurched at the term "his woman." He couldn't have meant her to take it literally since he had only been responding in jest to her lighthearted question. Yet it certainly was a heartstopping thought.
Setting the bowl on the ground nearby, Reilly took his backpack, cushioned it with his shirt, and put it beneath her head for a pillow. Cross-legged, he sat beside her and picked up the bowl.
"How many 'moons' have I been out?" Leah asked after swallowing a spoonful of broth put to her lips.
"Three nights." Another spoonful was held to her mouth.
"That long?" she breathed in surprise.
"Try eating without talking," he suggested with
The raging fire that engulfed her was caused by a fever. Leah understood vaguely why she hadn't been able to escape the burning heat. Yet her modesty still wouldn't let her give in to his logic.
"Leaveâ" She was so weak she could hardly get the words out. "Leave my clothes on."
"I can't. You must have something dry to put on when you come out," Reilly answered. "Don't fight me, Leah. You're going to need your strength."
Her mind resisted, but her body surrendered itself to his expert hands. In a semi-conscious haze she was aware of Reilly bodily lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the water, her head resting against his naked shoulder.
Then she was immersed in water, cooling ripples washing her from head to toe. An arm around her waist kept her from sinking into the refreshing depths of the dammed pool. The overhanging branches of a small willow shaded them from the sun.
Time was in limbo, beyond measurement for Leah. At some point in her fever-induced stupor, she became aware that Reilly too was unclothed, but it didn't matter as long as the deliciously cool water continued rinsing her fiery skin.
Stirring restlessly, she tried to escape the stifling cocoon that held her tightly. She wanted the refreshing water of the pool to cool her again. A hand gently stroked her temple and settled along her neck. She was lying on the ground in Reilly's arms, the blanket wrapped around them.
"Sleep," he murmured near her ear. "Your fever has broken. You need to sleep."
With shuttered eyes, Leah relaxed against him. The warmth of his body turned into a safe haven instead of a furnace that she needed to escape from. She slept without dreams or nightmares.
Reilly awakened her once in the daylight to feed her some broth. She instantly went back to sleep. Later there was the sensation of him lying beside her.
The next time she opened her eyes, Leah discovered she was alone under the blanket with the sun well up in the sky. The snapping sound of a fire drew her gaze to the center of the miniature glade. Reilly was crouched beside the fire, stirring the contents of the pan sitting near it.
His bronzed torso was shirtless, his muscled chest and shoulders rippling a golden copper in the sunlight. A pair of snug-fitting denim levis covered the lower half of him. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced over his shoulder. The boldly chiselled face was more forcefully handsome than she remembered. Lazily his eyes met her look.
"Hello." The grooves around his mouth deepened with the familiar smile that crinkled his eyes.
"Hello," Leah returned, feeling self-conscious without knowing why.
"Are you hungry?" He poured the liquid from the pan into one of the small bowls.
"A little," she admitted, and tried to shift into a sitting position, only to discover she was weaker than she had realized.
"Lie down. I'll feed you," he said, lithely rising to walk over to her.
"That's squaw's work, isn't it?" An impish smile curved her lips.
The line of his mouth crooked in response. "It is, but an Indian is sometimes forced into the role when his woman is crazy with fever."
Her heart lurched at the term "his woman." He couldn't have meant her to take it literally since he had only been responding in jest to her lighthearted question. Yet it certainly was a heartstopping thought.
Setting the bowl on the ground nearby, Reilly took his backpack, cushioned it with his shirt, and put it beneath her head for a pillow. Cross-legged, he sat beside her and picked up the bowl.
"How many 'moons' have I been out?" Leah asked after swallowing a spoonful of broth put to her lips.
"Three nights." Another spoonful was held to her mouth.
"That long?" she breathed in surprise.
"Try eating without talking," he suggested with
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