Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(25)



Gawain shook his head. “She said she could get back to her room. From the way she looked at the shower, I think she wants to clean up.”

A shower? Owen frowned. As a blademage, Gawain had probably experienced burns, cuts, and bruises, but possibly never a serious wound. He might not know how, after a healing, a person’s energy could slide right down the drain along with the hot water. The tough little female might not realize the danger, either.

He set his beer down. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

At the door of the bathroom, he listened. The shower was off, but he heard no movement. “Darcy?”

The soft sound wasn’t a reply, but was good enough for him. Stepping inside, he glanced around the big bathroom. Long wide counter, one sink, a wooden chair at the end. A toilet stall. An open-doored shower.

And there she was. Like a withered flower, she’d weakened and dropped to her knees in the shower. Her hair hung in long black tangles, not quite covering small up-tilted breasts.

He headed for her and stopped short. Naked. He wouldn’t stick his paw in that trap a second time. Snatching up a big towel, he bent and wrapped it around her. By the God, she smelled even more fragrant than a meadow of clover after a rainstorm.

“Up you come.” As he lifted her to her feet, she clung to his forearm, determinedly trying to stand on her own. Stubborn female.

“I can help you into the clothes Bree left,” he said. “Or take you back to your room in a towel and tuck you in.”

“I can do—” Her voice died under the look he gave her.

“Guess not, huh.” She sighed. “I’m sure not going to walk out there in a towel. Clothes, please.”

He had to admit he found her low voice damned appealing. It had a furry timbre, as if every word contained a purr.

After sitting her on the chair, he grabbed another towel. Gently, he squeezed the water out of her hair and patted off her shoulders and back. He handed her the towel to rub over her front…although he wouldn’t have minded drying her breasts himself.

Even with his courtesy, she blushed.

“Look how red you get,” he murmured, running a finger over her cheek to see if the color came off.

Her tiny growl made him grin.

He helped her into the loose T-shirt, then squatted and dried her legs off. Pretty legs. Too thin, but she had some muscles. She’d get more when they worked on her hunting skills. “Can you stand and dry off…the rest?

The red increased. Fucking cute, actually.

He didn’t wait, but pulled her to her feet, and stabilized her as she wielded the towel. Her ass was rounded and tempting. Her pussy was hidden by glossy black curls, and he could scent her lightly feminine musk.

He had a craving to smell the fragrance of her arousal as well.

No.

Surely, he wasn’t interested in this female. In any female.

He went down on his haunches and held the sweat pants for her. “Hold onto my shoulder and step in, little female.”

When she did, he pulled the pants up at the same time he rose. “There. All dressed.”

And still red.

He ran his finger over her cheek again. The red did make her skin hotter.

Her eyes narrowed. She sure didn’t seem afraid of him, at all.

If he teased her, would she scold him in her husky voice like an early-wakened pixie? Tempting, but she was tired. This wasn’t the time. Behave, Treharn.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he kept his mouth in a straight line, put an arm around her waist, and guided her back to the bedroom. She gave him a suspicious look, but let him help her into bed. Silently, he set the tray on her lap.

When he left, he was grinning. Herne help him, he hadn’t had so much fun in a couple of moons.





Chapter Six





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The next day, Darcy managed a shower and made it down the stairs all by herself. Her legs wobbled only a bit—a major victory. Now she wanted a nap after her strenuous endeavors, and how pitiful was that?

She didn’t have time to lie around. There were things to do, beginning with talking the Cosantir into rescuing her villagers. Two-pronged strikes would be the only way. If either the prìosan or the shifter-soldier compound were attacked alone, the Scythe would kill everyone at the other site. She frowned. A simultaneous rescue would require a lot of shifters.

Still, Calum had a whole territory, so he must have lots of cahirs. And he was powerful himself. Once the prìosan and compound were located, surely he’d send his warriors to free the hostages and soldiers.

Look, my brothers, I found help! She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling as if she could fly.

The foot of the stairs opened to a wide sitting area with a couch and chairs grouped around a huge fireplace. Very wilderness rustic, but beautifully done with a high ceiling and gleaming hardwood floors. Red and black Native American blankets and rugs added a cozy warmth. The open design led to the reception area by the front door with rooms off to the left.

As compelling aromas caught her attention, she turned toward the rear of the building. Bacon. And fresh bread. Her stomach growled. Sniffing as loudly as a dog, she followed her nose past a window-filled dining area and into a huge country kitchen.

Breanne was making scrambled eggs.

Darcy’s stomach gurgled loudly enough to catch the curvy blonde’s attention. She laughed. “You’re hungry—and have excellent timing. I was going to bring your breakfast upstairs.”

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