doing injury to yourself.” Her voice was amazingly calm, but her cheeks were beginning to burn. As she untied his last bonds, she struggled to keep her fingers from trembling.
Rigo watched her, noting—no, more—sensing her discomfiture, for she controlled her emotions with greater skill than any female in his considerable acquaintance. He tried to remember what had transpired during the night. He had thrashed with a high fever. After a dozen years on more than a hundred battlefields, he was deadly familiar with the feverish rantings of wounded men.
“Do you speak Castilian?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers.
“Not passably as yet, but I understand it. Benjamin has been teaching me,” she replied, knowing it would do no good to lie when he could so easily learn the truth.
“What did I say, my lady Miriam, all trussed up, begging for your succor during the long, lonely hours of the night?” he asked bitterly, already fearing the worst.
She sighed raggedly. “You mostly mumbled incoherently.”
His hand snaked out with amazing speed and strength to seize her wrist in an iron grip. “What did I mumble?” Rigo gritted his teeth and fought black waves of dizziness as he held tightly to her wrist, all the while damning his puny strength.
She tried to pull away, immediately reevaluating her diagnosis of his weakened condition. “Release me! You are hurting me, ill repayment indeed for someone who has spent hours sponging your burning body to break your fever!”
He released her as if scalded and she jerked back her hand, quickly stepping away from the bed. His eyes were slitted and his brow creased as he glared at her. “You uncovered me, tied naked to this bed and...” His voice faded as he recalled hazy snatches from the preceding night.
“You were burning up. Yesterday afternoon Benjamin prescribed wet cloths to cool your skin—tis what the Tainos do on Española for fevers. He bathed you thus.” She stopped abruptly—too abruptly, for she could see he immediately understood that she had been a participant in the act.
“And where has my brother been all this past night? You alone treated me, did you not, my lady?”
“When you began ranting and the fever grew again, I knew of nothing else to do, save to smother you and end your suffering!” She glared back at him and added, “Of course, had I done so, you would doubtless be in far greater misery in the next life, you womanizing, immoral heathen!”
Just then he caught a faint trace of her fragrance, the smell of roses. His scowl lifted as he vaguely recalled fondling her breast, an experience he was certain she had never had before. He smiled coldly. “I had dreams about Louise—very vivid dreams...” His eyes moved insolently from her face down the slender curves of her body, pausing deliberately at her breasts. “Somehow I must have gotten free of my restraints,” he speculated.
“You found my charms far less to your tastes than those of your plump Louise. I do not like being handled as if I were a camp follower in your army's train, Spaniard.”
“Is that why you dress in limp rags and drab colors—or do Jewish ladies take the veil as our holy sisters do?” he asked, surprised at his own curiosity. Did she believe she was not desirable?
Miriam snorted in disgust. “I do not wear gaudy colors or mince about in a clumsy farthingale because twould interfere with my work. I am a doctor and as such, I pronounce you well on your way to recovery. After Benjamin has broken his fast I will send him to see how you fare.” She turned and walked to the door with her spine rigidly straight. The rays of the rising sun fell on her silky hair, once more burnishing it pale bronze.
Rigo felt a distinctly familiar tightening in his loins
Rigo watched her, noting—no, more—sensing her discomfiture, for she controlled her emotions with greater skill than any female in his considerable acquaintance. He tried to remember what had transpired during the night. He had thrashed with a high fever. After a dozen years on more than a hundred battlefields, he was deadly familiar with the feverish rantings of wounded men.
“Do you speak Castilian?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers.
“Not passably as yet, but I understand it. Benjamin has been teaching me,” she replied, knowing it would do no good to lie when he could so easily learn the truth.
“What did I say, my lady Miriam, all trussed up, begging for your succor during the long, lonely hours of the night?” he asked bitterly, already fearing the worst.
She sighed raggedly. “You mostly mumbled incoherently.”
His hand snaked out with amazing speed and strength to seize her wrist in an iron grip. “What did I mumble?” Rigo gritted his teeth and fought black waves of dizziness as he held tightly to her wrist, all the while damning his puny strength.
She tried to pull away, immediately reevaluating her diagnosis of his weakened condition. “Release me! You are hurting me, ill repayment indeed for someone who has spent hours sponging your burning body to break your fever!”
He released her as if scalded and she jerked back her hand, quickly stepping away from the bed. His eyes were slitted and his brow creased as he glared at her. “You uncovered me, tied naked to this bed and...” His voice faded as he recalled hazy snatches from the preceding night.
“You were burning up. Yesterday afternoon Benjamin prescribed wet cloths to cool your skin—tis what the Tainos do on Española for fevers. He bathed you thus.” She stopped abruptly—too abruptly, for she could see he immediately understood that she had been a participant in the act.
“And where has my brother been all this past night? You alone treated me, did you not, my lady?”
“When you began ranting and the fever grew again, I knew of nothing else to do, save to smother you and end your suffering!” She glared back at him and added, “Of course, had I done so, you would doubtless be in far greater misery in the next life, you womanizing, immoral heathen!”
Just then he caught a faint trace of her fragrance, the smell of roses. His scowl lifted as he vaguely recalled fondling her breast, an experience he was certain she had never had before. He smiled coldly. “I had dreams about Louise—very vivid dreams...” His eyes moved insolently from her face down the slender curves of her body, pausing deliberately at her breasts. “Somehow I must have gotten free of my restraints,” he speculated.
“You found my charms far less to your tastes than those of your plump Louise. I do not like being handled as if I were a camp follower in your army's train, Spaniard.”
“Is that why you dress in limp rags and drab colors—or do Jewish ladies take the veil as our holy sisters do?” he asked, surprised at his own curiosity. Did she believe she was not desirable?
Miriam snorted in disgust. “I do not wear gaudy colors or mince about in a clumsy farthingale because twould interfere with my work. I am a doctor and as such, I pronounce you well on your way to recovery. After Benjamin has broken his fast I will send him to see how you fare.” She turned and walked to the door with her spine rigidly straight. The rays of the rising sun fell on her silky hair, once more burnishing it pale bronze.
Rigo felt a distinctly familiar tightening in his loins
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