as a child by a power-hungry warlord. But even before that, growing up in a mixed human and Opir colony, he’d known how much danger lay beyond the seeming safety of the colony’s walls.
But he would regret the hard lessons Jamie had yet to learn. He knew he couldn’t afford to allow his personal feelings to get in the way, and yet he felt that if he could have kept Jamie in a bubble, protected from all unpleasantness, he would have done it.
He berated himself for his weakness. He couldn’t allow himself to get emotionally involved. He could still take her back to the Enclave.
And she would resist him every step of the way. Fear wouldn’t stop her from forging ahead, even though she had only one Rider to protect her.
A Rider who had ulterior motives. Even though he’d already come to hate the idea of manipulating her into giving up information he now had reason to expect she possessed.
This was the time to learn it. When she was vulnerable and dependent on him. When she had begun to trust him.
Rising quickly, Timon walked to the top of the hill. The grass in the valley rippled like water. It was very peaceful.
Timon’s heart was not at peace. He had the overwhelming conviction that it never would be again.
* * *
Jamie woke at dawn. Timon had built a small fire, sheltered from view by the hills. He crouched beside it, the planes of his face carved of shadow and firelight, his big hands dangling between his knees.
Instinctively, Jamie felt her thigh. The pill had done some good, but the wound throbbed constantly, and her wrist wasn’t much better. She felt weak and useless, worth no more than Timon’s pity.
She watched Timon as he rummaged through his saddlebags. He wore a homespun shirt and pants with leather insets tucked into his boots, and even from a distance she could tell that the odor of his “disguise” was gone. Each of his movements was efficient and smooth, well-developed muscle working harmoniously and with no extraneous mannerisms.
Had he moved the same way when he’d fought for her in the tribesmen’s camp, with such ease and grace? He’d overcome her captor, gotten her away, treated her injuries. She was completely dependent on him and his considerable skill.
Her face felt flushed, and she touched her cheeks. They were warm...with embarrassment, she thought. No matter how many times he told her she wasn’t at fault.
“You’re awake,” he said, turning as he spoke. He smiled, and the strong lines of his face relaxed. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes,” she said, though she wasn’t sure it was really true. Her stomach grumbled loudly enough for him to hear, and she winced. “Thanks to you.”
“You’ve already thanked me,” he said. He laid his hand on her forehead, frowned and touched her cheek. There was nothing detached about that second touch. It was almost a caress.
She started in spite of herself. “No sign of the raiders?” she said, her lip cracking open as she spoke the last word.
Timon got up and returned with a small piece of gauze. He dabbed at her lip. “Nothing,” he said. “They’d expect us to be long gone by now.”
“We should be,” she said, making an effort to rise. “We can’t stay here.”
His violet-gray eyes gazed into hers with a calm wisdom that made her feel self-conscious all over again. “We’ll only move when you’re up to it,” he said, “and that won’t be today.”
Rising again, Timon fetched a tin plate filled with a kind of gruel and a strip of dried meat. “I’m sorry this is all I have to offer,” he said. “But I was only able to bring my own packs with me, and I haven’t had the chance to hunt. Do you think you can eat?”
Jamie nodded, her gut rebelling at the sight of the gruel. She let Timon feed her, though she began to resent every spoonful that went into her mouth.
“I still have one hand,” she protested.
“I don’t want you moving around any more than you have to.”
“There are some things you can’t help me with.”
He grinned, showing his pointed cuspids. “I’ve lived most of my life on the move. Do you think something like that would bother me?”
“You only travel with men,” she said.
“But I’ve known plenty of women,” he said, an almost mischievous light glittering in his eyes. “Biology is biology. If you think you can manage it, I’ll help you get up.”
“You just said you didn’t want me to move!”
All at once he was serious again. “I would rather you didn’t.”
With a feeling of queasiness, she imagined him cleaning up after her. That was out of the question. “Help me get over to the tree,” she said. He half carried her to the tree and gave her a small measure of privacy, though she knew he was alert to the possibility of a fall. She was very careful not to fall.
Then he was easing her to the blanket again, laying her down with exquisite care, with something so much like tenderness that she almost didn’t feel the increased pain as her arm and leg touched the ground.
“I’ll give you another pill,” he said, adjusting her head into a more comfortable position.
“I don’t need one,” she said with greater asperity than she’d intended.
“You kept insisting that you’re a coward who can’t stand pain.”
“I am,” she said, meeting his gaze.
He laughed softly. “Don’t ever suggest such foolish things again.”
“What—”
“That you aren’t one of the most courageous women I’ve ever known.”
“And you said you’ve known plenty.”
She didn’t know what had gotten into her. God knew she didn’t want to hear the real answer.
“Do you want the details?” he asked, his eyes dancing.
Eager to change the subject, Jamie closed her eyes. “How soon will I be well enough to travel, so that we can catch up with the others? They can’t be too far ahead.”
“We have to make sure that the arm sets properly and the leg wound remains clean and healing. We’ll find a more permanent camp, and stay there for a couple of weeks.”
“What?”
“You need plenty of time to heal.”
She began to sit up, but Timon was already pressing her down again. “That’s too long!”
“Because you’re anxious to rejoin your friends?” he asked. “Or is it the fact that you’ll be alone with me?”
His
