slight breeze that had sprung up outside. It was familiar, comfortable, and she let it soothe her feverish body. After a time she felt some calm come over her. But she was still a long way from understanding.
Long Shadow seemed to be struggling with himself, but why? Was he under some constraint, as Christophe had been? It didn't make sense.
Unless this was another of Peter's tests.
Long Shadow came back to her. 'Here it is,' he said, seating himself beside her again. 'Can you sit up?'
She opened her eyes. 'I think so,' she said, accepting his help and deliberately hiding how affected she was by his arm around her shoulders, the closeness of his body to hers and the scent of his skin. She simply drank the broth, her eyes gazing at nothing over the edge of the wooden cup as she thought.
'That was good,' she said blandly as she finished the cupful, all he'd allow for her first meal. Then he settled her back onto the fur and they looked at each other.
'I think you should try to sleep,' he said.
'Yes, I am tired,' she lied, knowing the arousal that throbbed within her yet, would not allow rest. 'Can I have the compress back?'
Her question had been guileless but Dee could see he was unsure. 'You don't need it any more.'
She probably never had. 'I want it,' she persisted. 'My eyes feel sore.'
He leant closer to look at them, his hair spilling over her breasts.
'The right one especially,' she said, pointing at it.
He touched the pad of a finger to the delicate skin beneath her eye and drew down the bottom lashes, leaning closer. The silky strands of hair slid up her chest, caressing the hardened nipples that strained towards him. She held her breath.
'I can't see any damage.'
'Well it hurts.' She stared at his lips, memorizing them for future reference.
'Are you sure?' He straightened, his hair sliding off her chest.
She let out a shaky breath. 'Definitely,' she said, and a moment later felt the familiar light pressure over her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled. 'Thank you. I might want it on for a few days yet. I hope that won't be inconvenient.'
Dee heard no sigh of relief but was sure it was there. 'We'll… work something out,' he said.
'Good. And by the way, thank you for saving my life.'
There was a pause. She felt a touch on her forehead, light fingers brushing her fringe back. Then the hand was gone.
'That's what Champions are for,' he said enigmatically and Dee wished she could see the expression on his face.
She wished that many times over the next few days. But curiosity was easily subdued when the reward was a return to their earlier intimacy.
Exactly as she'd suspected, as soon as the compress was back in place, she had but to feign sleep and he would lavished her body with attention.
Deliciously slow sponge-baths that made every nerve in her body tingle with anticipation were followed by drying with the softest of furs. He would linger over her throat and the top of her chest before floating over her straining nipples on his way down to tease her inner thighs and the back of her knees.
It was heaven and hell. She struggled with herself in an effort to lay still, so desperate became her need. But she knew to wait. The cream would be next. He applied that at least five times a day, many more times than were necessary, she was sure, but as with the first, each time he gave her the release she craved.
The waking hours were different. At first he was distant with her, but the handicap of her dark world soon drew him in and he began to talk, about the beliefs of his people and their connection with the land. In turn, Dee told him of the country of her birth, and her childhood among the pastureland, the dams and the stately gums.
Neither made reference to their lives immediately prior to Never Land, and in that Dee was content. She could maintain the fantasy Peter had constructed for her and also avoid the subject of women in Long Shadow's past, which whenever she thought of it, bothered her. Despite the fact that he was clearly experienced, she wanted to think she was the only woman he'd touched. And so, in the fantasy, she did.
For his part, he appeared to enjoy the burden of caring for her and the anticipation of her needs. He fed her by hand. Soup at first, then small delicacies — bite-sized pieces of unidentified meat in an oystery sauce. Protein to help her regain her strength, he said as he slid them into her mouth.
It frustrated her that the only physical contact he'd allow was with his hands, and she found herself increasingly lascivious with them, especially at mealtimes. She'd lick his fingers and capture them with her mouth, sucking them if he'd let her, and all the while imagining what was happening to his body — the body she was denied.
But her body was not denied to him and within the boundaries he'd set himself, he gave her every pleasure she could imagine. First it had been only his hands. Then when he discovered she responded to the feel of his hair sliding over her trembling skin, that too was added to his repertoire. A simple feather became the pathway to indescribable ecstasy, and when on the fourth day she felt his lips against her breast, she knew they were close to a breakthrough.
Yet she held herself still, wary of disrupting his concentration. The culmination of his excruciatingly restrained courtship meant more to her now than merely another physical pleasure — a different orgasm. It would be proof that he could no longer deny the connection between them.
His gentle touch and soft voice were disguises for the conquering warrior she sensed within him, the man she wanted as her mate. She'd felt it in the tremor of his hands and the strained edge his voice sometimes assumed.
It could only be a matter of time before that fierce demand broke through, overwhelming her with its potency, and she would be ready then with her own passion. She wanted no other. Only this man. And she'd not be satisfied with the mere capitulation of his body. She wanted his heart and mind as well.
But she didn't let herself think on these strange longings as she lay still as death, allowing herself only the occasional sigh as his lips, soft as the feather that had preceded it, brushed over her quivering skin, his tongue emerging to savour the taste of first one tight nipple, then the other.
His breath was hot on her throat as his lips trailed kisses up to her chin, then on to the edges of her mouth. She held her breath as his lips brushed fully against hers. Then she sighed, her breath easing into his mouth as it became one with hers in the deepest, most fulfilling kiss she could have imagined. A kiss that made her forget the taste of every other man. A kiss that spoke of love even as it inspired her to lust. The moment had come.
She reached up and removed the compress.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Deep inside a US warship cruising the Pacific, two men listened a male voice issuing from a bank of equipment against one wall. The tender endearments sounded incongruous, given the gun-metal grey environment but neither man was embarrassed. In fact, both were frowning.
Eventually one spoke.
'I told you he was too young for this, Max,' the general said. 'Fresh out of Quantico — '
'He had to be young or he wouldn't have been hired,' the other replied, holding a hand up for silence.
The general's frown deepened. He listened for a moment longer then shook his head. 'The kid's got his brains in his dick. He's going bad.'
'I'm his control,' the other man argued. 'Unless they burn him, he stays in.'
'And what if he goes over?'
'He won't.'
'Jesus, Max. It's his first field assignment. You would've had trouble picking a pro for this. The place is fantasy, fucking island. It's covered in pussy. He'll never get past it.'
'Yes he will. And the longer he's there, the better our chances of closing this deal.'
The general shook his head and stood, shoving his chair back with a jarring scrape. 'If they burn him, you'll
