another. He could not be dead.
“Wake up! Wake up!” she cried in frustration as she fell on him, pummeling his chest and stomach with her hard little fists. “Ye mustn’t be dead! Ye foolish, foolish man! Ye should nae have gone so deep! Great brute! Ye mustn’t be dead! Ye mustn’t!”
The dog, confused by the girl’s actions as she pounded his master and screamed abuse, barked and leaped excitedly upon her, knocking her flat.
Looking up into bared teeth, the dog’s paws on her chest, Meghan lay perfectly still while tears obscured her vision. If the man was dead, she no longer cared what happened.
The man’s cough startled both girl and dog.
Encouraged by the sound, the dog leaped away from her and to the man’s side.
When Meghan pulled herself upright she saw that his lungs and stomach were beginning to expel the pond water that had nearly drowned him. Quickly she moved to his side and turned him onto his stomach as the heavings continued. This she understood. She had nearly drowned once and had never forgotten the feeling. She knew that he would live if the water came out of him.
After his spasms stopped, she cradled the stranger’s head in her arms, holding him quietly as he lay insensible in her embrace.
The minutes passed slowly and soon her arms ached and her naked body quaked with the cold, but she was afraid to release him. By force of will she had pulled him back from death, and now, holding him, she believed she kept him safe. The dog lay a few feet away, his head on his paws but eyes ever watchful.
Slowly a little color came back into the man’s face, and the blue ring around his lips faded, leaving a faint trace of pink. Meghan watched eagerly for those signs of life, willing him to stay in the world with her. His closed eyes were deep set beneath golden brown brows, the jaw hard and square, and the nose bold and blunt tipped.
He was so beautiful, she thought as she slowly rocked him, more beautiful than any other being she had ever seen. And she was responsible for saving his life. Surely, then, she could not be the devil people claimed.
Shyly she stroked the bright hair turned dark by the water, and one damp curl entwined itself about her finger. Yet he did not move. Fear reawakened within her as she felt the clammy texture of his cheek. His skin was as cool as that of a fish. Anxious for reassurance, she bent over and rested her cheek against his.
“Dinna die,” she whispered against the corner of his mouth, and was rewarded with a feathery sigh of his breath against her lips. The touch sent a quiver of pleasure through her. Emboldened by his stillness, she cupped his cool cheek in her hand and turned his face until her lips lay lightly against his. “Dinna die,” she whispered again into his mouth, as if her words held the gift of life.
His lids fluttered, the dark lashes stirring on his cheeks, and Meghan drew away, trembling in anticipation. Then his eyes opened and he looked straight up into her face.
For a long moment they stared at each other. She had not known what to expect, had only wished the life to stir within him once more; but the instant their gazes met, Meghan knew she would never forget a single line or curve of him, nor would she ever want anything of life but to be looked at by those wondrously deep green eyes.
She watched his expression change from confusion to wonder and then amazement. Until that moment she had not realized that he was staring…at her cheek.
Clamping a hand over the mark, she leaped to her feet. Only one thought filled her head as she fled back into the forest: perhaps he had lived because he had not looked upon her face until now.
Chapter Two
When Revelin Piers Butler opened his eyes, his first impression was one of utter peace. He seemed suspended, disconnected from the earth and even from his body, as though he floated in the soft light of morning. He felt himself part of the amber air, shimmering, floating, riding the gentlest of