Chapter 13
“Ye… m-must… be out of y-yer mind!” Ailis stammered on the edge of the waterline, the tiny wavelets sweeping in like eager, frothing tongues to taste her curled toes.
Is he actually made of stone? Is that why he cannae feel anythin’?
She could not fathom how Killian could be standing up to his waist in that viciously cold water, bare-chested, as if it were the height of summer and he was bathing in a sun-warmed brook.
Sure, it was pleasant to look at, seeing him wet and half-naked, but even that wasn’t enough to compel her to take a step forward.
“It’s nae so bad once ye’re in it,” he called, his arm extended toward her.
“That is a blatant lie!” she shot back, shivering as a bolder wavelet raced up and covered her entire foot before retreating.
The water might have been liquid, but it felt like a bucket of broken glass being poured over her skin. So much so that she hopped backward, out of the path of another emboldened rush of water.
“Are ye a queen or a coward?” Killian taunted, beckoning to her.
“Neither!”
He smirked. “Ye’re tellin’ me that a lass who played in the labyrinth of a dungeon as a bairn cannae put her whole foot in the water? Did ye lose yer courage when ye grew up?”
“I must have,” she replied curtly.
Do ye think I daenae ken what ye’re doin’? It willnae work on me.
She folded her arms across her chest, fuming.
It wasn’t just the water. She didn’t care at all for the rough sensation of cold, wet sand beneath her bare feet.
As far as she was concerned, this beach, this cove, had no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
The seagulls were too loud, the steep walls of rock all around looked like they might collapse at any moment, sand would be stuck in her new dress for days, and the water might as well have been a sheet of ice.
“I daenae believe that,” Killian said.
He might have been the one redeeming quality.
There was something indescribably enticing about a wet man.
Particularly one as handsome and physically impressive as him.
The sea seemed to admire his body as much as she did, the water highlighting the contours of his broad, muscular chest and the ridges of his abdomen, glossing the defined lines of his powerful arms like a Roman centurion bathed in oil.
As for what was below the water, his belted plaid floated like seaweed, though the reflection of the glaring sun denied her any view of what was under it.
“Do ye feel afraid when ye take a bath?” he asked, reminding her that she was supposed to focus on the water and not what was hidden beneath.
She huffed. “Of course nae.”
“Then come in as far as yer waist,” he urged. “It’s nae different.”
That earned him a withering look.
“Nae different?” she scoffed. “Forgive me, but ye must take horrendous baths if ye think the two are anythin’ alike. I daenae usually get out of the bath shiverin’ so hard that me teeth might crack. Besides, I daenae want to ruin me dress.”
“So take it off.”
She gulped and stared at him in disbelief. He must be out of his mind if he thought she was going to wade through freezing cold water in nothing but her shift.
“Lass, I’m doin’ me best to be patient,” Killian said, his blue eyes glittering with the reflection of the sea. “But if ye daenae dip more than a toe into the water, I’m goin’ to have to come back to shore, strip ye to yer underthings, and carry ye into the sea meself.”
In a fantasy, perhaps daydreaming while alone in her old bedchamber at Castle Ainsley, that might have sounded terribly romantic.
She might even have enjoyed the thought for a moment, imagining his strong arms scooping her up, her head resting against his broad shoulder as he ran into the sea with her.
But the reality was nothing short of a nightmare.
“Daenae ye dare!” she hissed, retreating from the shoreline.
Not that she could outrun him if he decided to chase her. She had barely managed to get down to the cove without his help; she stood no chance of getting back to the top of the cliff by herself, unless she wanted to increase the risk of falling and breaking her neck.
Then again, that might be preferable to gettin’ in the water. A quicker end to this, certainly.
“Then get in the water,” Killian replied.
Clenching her jaw and concentrating on his face, she didn’t know what to do. Not a single part of her wanted to get in the water, yet his beckoning hand and the words he had spoken earlier called to her.
He cannae have a bride that willnae even hear the sea without shakin’… and think of Skye. She’d be thrilled to see this cove. She’d want to come here every day.
As Killian took a few steps toward her, making her worry that he might actually carry her out there, she hurried to pull off her dress. It was one thing to take her time wading out, going at her own pace, but it was another to be forced out there, no longer having any control.
He stopped, and she could have sworn she saw a slight smile on his lips.
“I swear, I will kill ye when I get to ye,” she muttered, carefully folding her dress and setting it on a nearby rock.
“As long as ye get to me, I daenae mind,” Killian drawled.
Hugging herself against the cold that she knew was about to assault her, she took a breath, closed her eyes, and tiptoed into the water.
“Oh… oh mercy! Oh… oh God… oh, ye bloody bastard… oh…” She huffed and puffed, plucking every rude word she knew out of her mind and onto her tongue as she waded deeper.
The water covered her feet first, then she felt it lick her ankles…
her calves… her knees… slapping against her thighs…
and up and up. She had no idea if she was heading in the right direction.
She couldn’t think beyond the flashing, flaring feeling in her head of cold, cold, cold.
Her breathing was shallow, her body shaking, but at least it wasn’t fear making her tremble. This was simpler, somehow.
As the saltwater climbed up her stomach, chilling her ribs, she had to wonder if Killian was out there at all. Surely, she should have reached him by now?
Pausing, she cracked one eye open to find him wading backward.
“Oi!” she barked, her teeth chattering.
He stopped immediately and held out his hand to her. “Ye were doin’ so well; I didnae want to disturb ye.”
“Aye, well, ye’re more likely to make me go back to the shore, doin’ foolish things like that!” she retorted, glancing back at the beach.
A gasp slipped past her lips as she realized just how far she had come. The sand was still a safe distance away, and the sight of land soothed her, but she was a little proud of her progress.
“I apologize,” Killian said, wading toward her.
She focused on his blue eyes, warmed ever so slightly as his hands came to rest on her upper arms. An anchor to steady her, while a subtle current flowed past her legs. Not enough to knock her over, but more noticeable now that she was standing still.
“How do ye feel?” he asked.
Ailis thought for a moment. “I feel nothin’.”
“Nay fear?”
She managed a sly smile. “Nay, I mean I cannae feel anythin’. I’m completely numb.”
But he had been right about the cold water not being so bad once she was in it. By some strange force or phenomenon, the parts of her body that were submerged weren’t nearly as cold as the parts that were getting splashed.
“Well, I can help with that,” he told her, and promptly pulled her in, his arms wrapping tightly around her.
The heat of his bare skin was a welcome thing, like stepping out of the snow to find a brazier burning brightly. She didn’t hesitate to draw every last bit of warmth she could out of him, pressing her upper body against his chest, her hands curling into fists between them.
“Ye daenae seem as terrified,” he murmured as he held her.
She frowned, gazing at a small scar on his collarbone. “I daenae feel as terrified. There are too many other things to think and feel that… it’s been pushed down somewhere.” She took a breath. “It’s there, the little… current of anxiety, but it’s… strugglin’ against the rest.”
“I’d wager it’s like forgettin’ that it’s cold,” he said.
She laughed at that. “I daenae think I have much chance of forgettin’ that it’s cold.”
“Give it a moment.”
He held her tighter, and as she relished the heat of him, she found herself listening not to the whispers of the sea, but to his slow breathing. And to the faint thud of his heart as she rested her cheek against his chest.
“Warmer?” he asked.
She gave a small nod.
“So ye’re ready to swim now?” he asked, amusement in his voice.
Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “Swim? Nay, I’ll drown.”
“Which is why ye’re nae alone,” he soothed. “As long as I’m here, I willnae let ye drown.”
Unconvinced, she nestled back into the comforting heat of him, hoping that if she stayed there long enough in perfect stillness and silence, he would forget all about teaching her to swim.