Heloise heard the river before she saw it; a rushing, gurgling sound that increased in volume as they rode toward it. She dismounted, dropped to her haunches to hide the fact that her legs had given way, and pretended she’d meant to test the water all along. It was crystal clear straight off the mountains; she scooped up a handful and drank greedily, gasping as the coolness soothed her parched throat.
She eyed the fast-moving torrent with a leaden sense of dread. “We can’t cross here.”
Raven dismounted and joined her. “We have to. There aren’t any bridges for miles.”
“It’s too deep.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said with exaggerated patience. “You’ll barely get your feet wet.”
He cinched the saddlebags higher on Hades’s back, stowed his pistols inside, then plucked off her hat and placed that in the saddlebag, too. He caught the reins of both horses in one hand and started forward. “Let’s go.”
Heloise scuffed the toe of her boot against a stone and sent it skittering into the water.
He leaned closer. “What’s that? You’re mumbling.”
Humiliation engulfed her. She hated having to admit a weakness. “I said, I can’t swim.”
Raven frowned. “Of course you can. You’re the one who saved Tony from that pond, remember?”
“Of course I remember,” she snapped. “I still have nightmares about it.” She bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to reveal that. She hurried on, hoping he hadn’t noticed the slip. “But I didn’t need to swim to rescue him. The water was frozen. I ran out over the ice. Well, slid, actually. And then I crawled forward on my belly and pulled him out.”
She lifted her hand to her forehead automatically, as if to confirm her scar was still there. She’d been helping Tony up the frozen bank, both of them sopping wet, their labored breaths forming icy clouds in front of them. He’d been so heavy. They’d slipped; she recalled the bright, stinging pain as her head hit a snow-covered rock, the festive brightness of her blood against the snow.
Raven’s brow creased as he clearly tried to recall a time when he’d witnessed her swimming. He’d fail. She’d always been banned from their naked lake swims and she hadn’t dared to try to teach herself. Her injury was a permanent reminder that she’d cheated Death of his chosen victim. It would have been tempting fate to go near water again.
He dropped his chin to his chest, closed his eyes, and swore under his breath. “Let me get this straight. You went out on that ice when you couldn’t bloody swim?”
Hades stepped nervously sideways, reacting to his increasing volume, but Raven controlled the animal with an impatient tug on the reins.
Heloise stood and faced him, her own temper rising at his accusatory tone. “I didn’t stop to think about it. Tony was drowning.”
He glared at her. “You could have been killed! What if the ice had given way beneath you, too? You’d both have ended up in the water.”
She placed her fists on her waist. “What would you have done? Stood on the bank and watched him drown?”
Her anger seemed to diffuse some of his own. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Of course not. I’d have gone after him, too.” He glanced down with a frown. “God, I wish I had been there. You wouldn’t have been hurt.”
The idea that he would have spared her pain, if he could, warmed her and she gentled her tone. “If you’d been there, no doubt you’d have been doing something even more dangerous than ice fishing. I’d have had to rescue both of you.”
He bent his head in wry acknowledgment. “You’re probably right.” He glared at the opposite bank. “There really isn’t another way across, you know. I can’t just leave you here.”
Her knees threatened to buckle. “Can’t we ride across?”
“No. I have no idea how the horses will react to the water. I can’t risk them throwing you.” He stepped closer and gave her a devilish smile. “I won’t let you drown, Hellcat. I’m reserving the pleasure of killing you for myself.” He held his free hand out toward her. “Come on. Just think of it as another item on your list: ‘Cross raging mountain torrent, gain Ravenwood’s eternal respect.’ ”
She couldn’t smile at his joke. The idea of going into that water was terrifying, but what choice did she have? She doubted she could find her way back to Santander on her own, even if he’d let her go, and she wasn’t ready for her adventure to end. Not yet. And when he looked at her like that, with such utter confidence, she’d follow him to hell itself.
She took his hand.
Heloise started to panic almost as soon as they started. The water was clear and icy-cold. It seeped into her boots with unpleasant speed then crept its way up her legs, getting colder and darker the deeper they waded. By the time it was knee-high, the current was so strong it threatened to pull her legs out from under her and she could barely feel her toes. Her fingers hurt; she was holding Raven’s hand so tightly she had to be crushing his knuckles but he didn’t seem to mind.
He wasn’t having nearly as much difficulty, the swine, being taller and heavier. He simply edged along, sideways to the current, feeling his way across the rocky streambed with his feet.
Her breathing became shallow pants as the water reached her waist. The opposite bank was miles away, and they weren’t even at the deepest part. To make matters worse, the horses were splashing and tossing their heads in agitation. Heloise flinched away from the plunging hooves, certain they were going to push her under.
Wonderful. If she didn’t drown she’d be trampled to death.
She didn’t want to die. She hadn’t finished all the items on her list.
She fixed her eyes on the far side. She could do this. She began reciting Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 in her head, the words all running together in her fright. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day thou art more lovely and more temperate rough winds do shake the darling buds of May and summer’s lease hath all too short a date—
Her foot slipped. She opened her mouth to scream but the current swept her legs out from beneath her and she went under. She lost hold of Raven’s hand and inhaled a mouthful of water. Blind panic descended. She thrashed her arms but the flow was so strong it pulled her down and tumbled her over so she didn’t even know which way was up. A blurry confusion of light and darkness churned around her and a great rushing filled her ears.
Death must be laughing right now.
Her lungs started to burn and she flailed again, at once desperate and hopeless. A ball of outraged fury welled in her chest. Such a stupid way to die.
And then something caught her shirt and yanked her upward. She burst through the surface of the water and dragged a great, gasping lungful of air. Nothing had ever felt so good.
Raven’s face came back into focus and she struggled to put her feet down on the riverbed. “Don’t try. You’re out of your depth. Look at me. Only me. Nothing else.”
She was too terrified and disoriented to do anything other than obey. He was supporting her in the water, his legs beating a strong stroke beneath her, his hand fisted in the collar of her shirt.
Heloise blinked the water out of her eyes and coughed, clutching his forearm with both hands until her knuckles turned white.
“Breathe with me,” he ordered. “Match your breaths to mine. That’s it. Slowly.”
He became her universe; everything else faded away. She focused on the tiny droplets of water on his eyelashes, the black hair plastered to his forehead, the ridiculous green of his eyes. Her chin dipped beneath the surface and she inhaled another mouthful of water.
“Kick your legs,” he said.
She gave a weak kick and was astonished to feel herself propelled forward. She did it again. And again. When her feet finally touched the gravelly bank she uttered a heartfelt prayer of thanks. She started to stagger ashore but Raven swept her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way. He deposited her a few steps from the bank, letting her slide down his body but keeping his arms around her for support.
Heloise sagged against him, and for a brief moment she allowed herself the forbidden luxury of pressing her face into his chest and absorbing his strength deep into her bones. A shudder racked her body.
She wasn’t dead.
Raven rested his chin on the top of her head and simply held her, crooning reassurances into her sopping hair. She clung to him, unable to stop the shaking of her body or the bone-deep chill that gripped her. She had no idea how long they stood there. Time lost all meaning as he rocked her gently, but eventually the tremors abated and she came to slow awareness of their position.
She was clinging to his chest like a barnacle to a ship’s hull. Her head rested on his chest; she could hear his heartbeat, a reassuringly solid thump, but she forced herself to release her death grip on the front of his shirt. She uncurled her fists and straightened her fingers, flattened her palms on his chest.
She became intensely conscious of the fact that their wet clothes gave very little protection. Every inch of her body was molded to him, the hard tips of her breasts were squashed flat against his chest. She started to pull back, but Raven had caught her face between his hands. He swept his thumbs over her cheekbones then gently pushed a strand of dripping hair from her temple.
Her pulse missed a beat. There was an ache in her chest that had nothing to do with the water she’d swallowed and everything to do with the tender expression on his face.
“Cats never like water,” he said softly. “It’s over. Well done.”
His gaze flicked to her lips. She tensed, sure he was about to kiss her, but he released her and stepped back instead. She swayed but remained upright through sheer, stubborn pride.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”
It was just the buck-up she needed. Renewed energy flooded her body and she straightened her spine. “Of course not. I’ve never fainted in my life.”
He gave her a disbelieving look. If he could be so coolly unaffected by a near-death experience then so could she. She gathered her wet hair and wrung it out over her shoulder. “I know, I’m a failure as a woman. I can’t summon a half-decent swoon. I’ve tried, believe me. I can’t even cry prettily. My eyes go all red and puffy and my nose runs. It’s very unattractive.”
“Nerves of steel are far more useful.”
She opened her eyes wide in feigned astonishment. “Good God, is that a compliment? I might swoon, after all, from the shock.”
Raven smiled. “Ha. You’re fine. If you’re well enough to argue with me, you’re well enough to get back on that horse. Come on.”
“The day I lack the strength to argue with you, Ravenwood,” she said, “will be the day I leave this world forever.”