Chapter 21 #4
“ Madre de Dios! You’re freezing,” Raul said, letting go of her to strip off his tuxedo jacket and wrap it around her. His face was tight with worry.
She gripped the lapels, the satin lining still warm from his body. “Could you put your arms around me again? You’re warmer than the jacket.”
“ Por supuesto! Of course!” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him, turning his back to the wind to make a shelter of his body.
The way he curled his body around her made her feel so protected, so cared for, that silent tears ran down her cheeks. She shouldn’t need this. She was a strong, independent woman. But right now, it felt so good.
“ Senor! I see the dragon!” Dario yelled, and the boat changed direction, bouncing across the waves.
“Yes!” she whispered as a tension she hadn’t known she was carrying released its grip so she melted even more into Raul’s embrace.
His body heat began to warm her, and suddenly she felt the sting of where the dragon’s claws had slashed at her rib cage.
The cold water must have numbed the wounds before.
She pulled a little away from Raul to look down at her side and saw dark splotches of blood on his white shirt.
“Ay, carajo,” she muttered.
“What is it, mi corazón? ” Raul asked, his voice soft.
If only he wouldn’t keep using such endearments. They were worse than the dragon’s claws.
“Nothing. I’ve gotten your shirt dirty,” she said, knowing he would overreact to her injuries.
“It’s just water,” he said, but he glanced down and swore. “That isn’t water. Are you bleeding?”
“It’s nothing. The dragon just swiped me with her claws. It didn’t even hurt until now,” she said, ignoring the sharp throb of the slashes.
“Pascal, is there a first aid kit on this boat?” Raul shouted. “Where are you hurt, mi amor? ” He carefully eased her out of his arms.
She winced as she saw the size of the stain on his shirt, not because it was her blood, but because the fine shirt was ruined. “My right side.”
They both looked down. Her dress was in ribbons on that side, the strands stuck to her skin by the same stain that soiled Raul’s shirt. Five parallel dark lines showed against her skin.
“ Hostia! Dario!” Raul shouted. “Forget the dragon. Take us directly toward the Guardia Maritima cutter. Erica requires immediate medical attention.”
“No! Follow the dragon!” Erica yelled as she felt the boat veer again. “It’s nothing but a few cuts. I’m fine!”
Of course, Dario obeyed his prince, not her.
She grabbed Raul’s shoulders, smothering a gasp at the jab of pain her movement caused. “Tell him to follow the dragon. Don’t let everything we’ve gone through be for nothing.”
“I can’t tell how deep those wounds are,” Raul said, his tone frantic. “Pascal, did you find the first aid kit?”
She cupped his face and pinned him with a glare. “I will be really pissed if that dragon dies.”
And he would feel like he had failed.
“Here, Senor .” Pascal knelt beside them with a white plastic box in his hands. “Perhaps I could take a look at the injury? I’m a trained paramedic.”
Erica didn’t let go of Raul, even though she knew she was showing disrespect to the prince in front of Pascal. “The dragon,” she said.
They locked gazes and wills for what seemed like a long time, the boat still moving in the wrong direction.
Raul wrapped his fingers around her wrists, turned his head to kiss one of her palms, then shouted, “Dario! Can you still see the dragon?”
Erica held her breath as the boat slowed, but Dario said nothing. Pascal stood and scanned the sea around them. “She’s at two o’clock!” he yelled. Once again, the boat began to bounce over the waves.
Relief poured through her, and she sagged against Raul’s chest. “Gracias a Dios,” she murmured.
“You are as stubborn as…” Raul muttered, releasing her hands and turning her so he could examine her side.
“You can finish the insult,” Erica said, giving him a challenging look.
He shook his head. “I meant to say that you are as courageous as a lioness.”
His words sent a ripple of pride through her. She wished her father could hear them. He would be proud too.
Pascal knelt again and pulled supplies out of the first aid kit, but Raul was the one who cleaned the wounds with a stinging antiseptic liquid and smeared antibiotic ointment over them with a featherlight touch.
She gasped when he popped the studs and cuff links out of his tuxedo shirt and shrugged out of it. “What on earth are you?—?”
Then he ripped off a strip of the fabric. “We need to keep those wounds covered,” he said, ripping another strip.
“Not with your shirt.”
“It’s only fair, considering what I did to your dress,” he said with a quick smile as he folded the rest of the shirt into a neat square.
“You’re going to freeze,” she said. “Take your jacket back.”
“I didn’t dive into the ocean like a demented mermaid, so I’m fine,” he said. “Pascal, will you hold my shirt over the wounds while I tie it on?”
“‘Demented’?” She was trying to ignore the delight of his face being right beside hers as he wrapped a strip of shirt around her rib cage. “I carefully and rationally thought out my actions.”
His cheek brushed hers when he shifted back to secure it. “Then why didn’t you take two life vests so you didn’t nearly drown?” She was surprised by the harshness in his voice.
“Too much drag when I swam,” she said. “It was hard enough to pull one behind me.”
He blew out a breath beside her ear. “I lost several years off my life when we couldn’t see you in the waves.”
No point in telling him that she had too.
After tying the strips around her, he sat back on his heels to inspect his handiwork, tugging one knot tighter before he nodded in satisfaction.
Did she ogle the muscles of his bare torso and its snarling dragon just a little? Yeah, she did, but only to distract herself from the sweetness of his tending to her. Unfortunately, Pascal took off his jacket and handed it to his boss.
When Raul wrapped his arms around her again, she laid her cheek on his bare skin, basking in the intimate contact that sent heat curling through her body. To hell with protecting her heart. This man owned it now.
She lost track of time as the boat skimmed over the sea and Raul held her, occasionally stroking her drying hair. It was heaven to be in his arms, her body snugged up against his, while someone else made the decisions about where they were going.
Then Pascal shouted, “There’s the Guardia Maritima cutter!”
Erica twisted in Raul’s arms to see the brilliantly lit white ship heading toward them, its bow painted with wide Calevan green-and-maroon stripes. She was torn between relief that they were being rescued and regret that she would have to leave the comfort of Raul’s embrace.
As the cutter approached, things happened swiftly. Pascal was on the radio with the ship, directing their rescue swimmers to where the dragon was. Dario maneuvered their inflatable up beside the cutter. Raul spoke with the ship’s captain on his satellite phone.
“We have an injured person on board,” he said. “We need a rescue hoist. Thanks.”
“I’m not using a hoist,” Erica said. “I can climb the damn ladder.”
“You’re barefoot and bleeding,” Raul snapped. “You’re not climbing the ladder.”
A rope snaked down from the cutter. Pascal grabbed it and tied it to the inflatable’s bow. Another came down for the stern. Then a winch arm swung out over their boat, a harness dangling from it.
Erica rolled her eyes but resigned herself to boarding the cutter in an unnecessarily dramatic manner. When the medics saw the minor extent of her injuries, they would think she was a total wimp.
The harness dropped down to land in the bottom of the inflatable. Raul picked it up and untangled the straps while Erica glared at him. As he unbuckled the harness, he gave her a rakish grin. “This reminds me of rock climbing, except this time I get to check the fit of the harness on you.”
He bent to hold the harness for her to step into. Much as it annoyed her, she had to put her hand on his shoulder to balance in the rocking boat. He slid the straps up around her thighs and waist and buckled her in, tugging on the fasteners to make sure they were snug.
Then he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly against him before he lowered his mouth to hers. “Mi corazón,” he said, before kissing her long and hard.
Yes, heat surged through her body, but there was more. Her heart twisted and pounded as her love for him overwhelmed her.
He released her and shouted to the men on the deck. “All right, take her up! Carefully!”
For a moment, his hands were on her hips, steadying her as she rose from the inflatable. Then she was swinging free, missing the anchor of his grasp, before two Guardia Maritima crew members grabbed the harness and gently brought her onto the ship’s deck.
From there, she was swept off to the sick bay, where a doctor peeled away Raul’s makeshift bandage to inspect and treat her wounds. His touch was gentle, but the antiseptic he used burned like a branding iron, making her hiss in pain.
As he finished rebandaging the gashes, he said, “Two of those lacerations are pretty deep, so they could leave scars. You might want to consult a plastic surgeon when you get to shore.”
“Thanks, but how many people can say they have scars from a Calevan dragon’s claws?” she said.
The doctor shook his head. “You must be military.”
“Nope, just a pilot.”
He shook his head again before rummaging in a cabinet.
“The salt water cleaned out the wounds pretty thoroughly, but I’m going to give you a course of antibiotics to prevent any possibility of infection.
And here’s some antiseptic ointment to spread on the lacerations.
” He handed her a small box and a large tube.
“Make sure to take all the antibiotics. And stay out of the sun while taking them.”
“Thanks. I know the drill,” Erica said with a slight grimace as she thought of her upcoming trip to the sunny Caribbean.