Damian gave up trying to get any sleep that night. He found some sticks to feed to the dying fire, then sat there waiting for the sun to rise—and watched Casey. It wasn’t an unpleasant task. There was a softness about her that wasn’t there when she was awake, a softness that made her sex more obvious.
He hadn’t seen her sleeping before, which was perhaps fortunate. Thinking she was too pretty for a boy was one thing when he thought she was a boy. But had he seen this softness, which made her look downright sensual, he would have been appalled to find himself attracted to her…him…he groaned inwardly.
He still couldn’t get over it. He should have realized for himself, without being told. He had always been intrigued by something about her. But he had let her skills and accomplishments count for too much. No female could do what Casey did, after all—and yet Casey had blown that reasoning all to hell last night.
A woman—no, a girl. He tried to keep that in mind, but he couldn’t quite manage to. Most likely because she didn’t look like a girl lying there; she looked like a mature young woman, one who was certainly old enough to be approached in an intimate manner.
He hadn’t realized just how flawlessly smooth her skin was, how lush that bottom lip was that he had the strongest urge to suck on. He’d seen her hair clean, knew that it could float softly about her shoulders, rather than be the scraggly mess she cultivated. But tossed back as it was now, it didn’t detract from the delicate lines of her face that made her so lovely—and desirable.
As a boy, Casey had been interesting. As a girl, she was fascinating. Damian had a hundred questions he’d like to put to her, but knew she wouldn’t answer a single one. She was adept at keeping her secrets, and her emotions, to herself, and just because she had revealed the biggest secret didn’t mean any more would be forthcoming.
Even after she’d shocked the hell out of him, she’d still used that damn inscrutable expression of hers on him that gave away nothing. It was recalling how often that particular habit of hers had made him nervous that had caused most of his anger. A woman had made him nervous.
He had calmed down enough to get over that, since it was probably something she didn’t actually do on purpose, or at least didn’t do to deliberately make anyone nervous. But he couldn’t get over the fact that he was so strongly attracted to her.
Plain and simply, he didn’t know how he was going to continue to travel with her and keep his hands off her. For that matter, he wasn’t sure why he should even try, when she certainly didn’t adhere to the traditional proprieties that kept men from behaving like utter barbarians in the presence of women. By being here alone with him, she broke all the known rules that he had been raised by, so which rules was he supposed to conform to?
But there was his reason for being here in the first place. And by the time Casey began to stir with the nearby greetings of all the birds in the area as dawn approached, the justice that he owed to his father won out over his newfound lust. So he decided it wouldn’t be wise to complicate matters with Casey, that the best way to proceed was to keep his distance from her. She would just do the job he’d hired her for.
It was a decision he hoped he could stick to. And to that end, he needed to put Casey’s mind at ease with a lie or two of his own so she could go back to ignoring him—for the most part—and make it easier for him to ignore her. He began as soon as she sat up.
“I’d like to apologize.”
It was a moment or two before she glanced his way, and even then she yawned and blinked several times before saying in a sleep-husky voice, “My eyes are barely open, Damian. Before you go saying something I’d probably like to remember, let me have my coffee first.”
He smiled at her. She didn’t notice, poking at the fire, fetching what she needed for the coffee, stretching—damn, he wished she wouldn’t do that—and then heading off into the bushes. That was something else he hadn’t noticed previously that she had the habit of doing. And since he didn’t have a similar habit…his blush was almost gone by the time she returned. Fortunately, it was still dark enough for her not to notice his embarrassment.
She didn’t look at him directly again until she had finished her morning routine and squatted down across the fire from him with her steaming cup of coffee in hand. And then he got her typical composed look. Now why didn’t that surprise him?
“Now, then, you were saying something about apologizing, weren’t you?”
Damian couldn’t help noticing the way her knees spread wide when she squatted like that. Even though her poncho fell between them, he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from her long legs so he could answer her.
He cleared his throat to begin. “I said a few things last night in anger that weren’t really true.”
“Such as?”
“Such as implying that I was interested in you in a—well, in a personal sort of way.”
She seemed to stiffen, but he wasn’t sure. “So you really aren’t?”
“No, of course not,” he lied with a perfectly straight face. “I was just so—disturbed at the time, I was saying anything that might give you the same sort of shock you’d dealt me. Very despicable on my part, for which I find myself extremely sorry this morning.”
She nodded slowly and looked away, staring off at the sunrise that was now in full color. The golden glow from the sky made her face mesmerizing, and it was very difficult for Damian to concentrate on her reply.
“I’ve been known to say things I don’t mean either when my temper acts up,” she admitted with a frown, as if she were remembering a time in particular. “Guess I should do some apologizing as well.”
“That isn’t necessary—”
“But needful anyway, as long as we’re clearing the air, so let me say it. I did some conclusion-jumping myself last night by suggesting you might be worried about forced weddings. Pretty foolish on my part, when, for all I know, you could be married already.”
Married already? Damian frowned, because he couldn’t help remembering his last meeting with Winnifred’s father, who had approached him at the funeral. “I know this is a bad time to mention it,” he’d said, “but this isn’t going to hold up the wedding, is it?”
A bad time? Damian had been incredulous at the man’s insensitivity, and he knew that what grew from the stem usually bore the same fruit. Which was why he hadn’t seen father or daughter since, and had no further desire to.
“There’s no wife,” he said flatly.
“I wasn’t asking, I was just apologizing for assuming when I shouldn’t have. Don’t make me no nevermind if you’re married or not.”
Damian found it amusing, the way she stressed that, as if she were worried that he might think she was interested in him in a marriage sort of way. Obviously not. She even appeared a bit embarrassed over it.
So he was quick to assure her, “No, I didn’t think it would.”
She gave him a curt nod, apparently wanting to be done with the subject, and as a dismissal, she remarked, “Amazing how a good night’s sleep always puts a different perspective on things.”
Damian wouldn’t know. He didn’t yet feel the effects of getting no sleep last night, but he didn’t doubt he would before the day was over. In fact, by the time they rode into the next town toward evening, he was so tired and grouchy he told Casey that if she didn’t see him the next day, she shouldn’t come looking for him, that he was going to sleep the clock around. And he did just that.