Chapter Fourteen #3
When their eyes met, she stepped forward and kept her gaze locked with his. The corners of her mouth lifted, though not quite into a smile.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so...” she paused, as if searching for the word she wanted, and settled finally on, “at peace.”
He knew for certain he’d not been so for a long time.
Anastasia, perhaps, didn’t expect a response. She came close to the water and chewed her bottom lip while she considered the depths beneath her, seeming to be indecisive.
“It looks refreshing—and oh, my God, I would love to wash the grime off me, but...”
“?Tis safe at the moment,” he encouraged idly, waving his hands and arms against the surface while he swayed his feet back and forth to keep himself above water.
“Actually, I was more worried about my clothes being wet all evening and maybe overnight,” she said, glancing down at the short pile of his garments. She smiled fully now and met his gaze again. “I guess I don’t think like you—safety was not my concern at all.”
And so it didn’t need to be. That was his duty.
“I’ll nae look, lass, if ye want to discard yer clothes.”
She looked tempted, looked like she was considering it. She set down the camera and the newest image.
“Is it very cold?”
“It’s nae warm,” he said honestly, “but it does feel guid.”
“Is it deep?”
“It shelves gently at first, but aye, it drops—deepens enough to swim.”
“Is there... like, anything in there that will bite me?”
Unable to help himself, Bram laughed at this. “If ye want me to talk ye out of it, lass, say as much and I’ll give the proper answers to accommodate ye.”
She smiled in return. “No, I don’t want to be talked out of it—I just don’t want it to be disappointing.”
“There’s nae disappointment to be found, Anastasia, nae for me, after so long without.”
She went still, tilting her head at him. “I guess there’s no baths in a POW camp.”
“P-O-W?”
“It’s a modern term,” she said dismissively as she doffed her short coat, “an acronym for prisoner of war.”
Bram let his feet fall beneath him and then allowed himself to sink fully under the water, coming up again and spitting out a mouthful to the side. “Nae, lass, there are nae baths for war prisoners.”
She sat at the edge of the water and began to unlace her shoes. “Should I wait until you’re finished? One of us probably ought to be watching.”
Bram lifted his hand from the water, showing her his palm. “Hold,” he instructed, and Anastasia went perfectly still.
Perfectly still, that is, save for her eyes, which moved left and right, as if she were listening to something he heard.
“Do ye hear the birds?” When she nodded, he asked, “And see how the gelding is at ease, watching us, ears nae flicking?” When she nodded again, he explained, “?Tis safe. Nae one approaches. The birdsong would have quieted.”
She relaxed and continued removing her odd shoes. “Oh, good.”
“Will I give ye my back, that ye may undress?”
“Um, do you mind?”
Turning his back to her, Bram struck out toward the deeper water, diving cleanly beneath the surface. He remained below only a few moments before rising again, slicking the water from his face as he floated quietly, allowing her what privacy he could.
Behind him came a tremendous splash, nothing like his own quiet dive.
An instant later Anastasia burst back to the surface with a sharp gasp, turning Bram around in a moment of alarm.
“Holy crap!” She pushed dripping hair from her face and blinked water from her eyes. “You said it was cold, not icy!”
The corners of his mouth lifted without a by-your-leave, his mood indeed lightened by the opportunity of a bath and now her reaction.
Then his gaze settled fully upon Anastasia.
She stood chest-deep perhaps a dozen feet away, the dark water lapping gently against her as droplets coursed over her fine pale skin.
Her hair, now several shades darker beneath the weight of water, clung in damp ribbons to her neck and cheeks.
Two narrow straps crossed her bare shoulders, attached to the curious close-fitting undergarment she wore, and the waterline rested just low enough to reveal the uppermost curve of her breasts above it.
Bram’s gaze caught there.
Until now, her short tunic and coat had concealed nearly everything beneath her throat, and he had given little thought to what lay beneath.
He was giving it considerably more thought now.
The dark water revealed only the uppermost curve of her bosom above its surface, but apparently that was quite enough to hold his unblinking gaze.
Anastasia scrubbed both hands over her face before noticing that he stared at her.
Their eyes met, and neither moved for a moment.
A faint color rose into her cheeks despite the cold water surrounding her, but she made no effort to sink farther beneath the surface. That, for some reason, made looking away considerably more difficult.
Bram finally dragged his gaze aside and breathed slowly through his nose, clearing his throat before saying in a voice rougher than he intended, “Mayhap move about a bit. Ye’ll warm quicker.”