It was midmorning when I spied some lovely brush cover (and some soft-leafed plants) next to another stream that bisected our roadway.

“Could we please take a pit stop here?” I admitted to myself, almost unashamedly, that I sincerely enjoyed any excuse I could find to lean against his body.

“What type of stop is a pit stop?” ClanFintan’s arms were covered with a thin layer of sweat, but his breathing sounded normal. He was in seriously good shape. (Note to self: yum.)

“It’s a stop that we use to recharge our energy and, well, to take care of necessary things.” Subjects like going to the bathroom get easier the longer you’re married. The fact that we hadn’t been married very long, coupled with the absence of even a nasty state-run rest stop, was awkwardness waiting to happen. No wonder I felt myself blushing again. “And I’m thirsty.”

“Oh, of course. I should have thought of that earlier.” His pace slowed to a trot as we drew closer to the stream. He spoke over his shoulder to the centaurs. “We will take a short—” he smiled at me “—pit stop.”

To their credit the centaurs tried not to look too confused.

ClanFintan twisted at the waist and slid his arm around my waist, easily lifting me off the saddle. As my feet touched the ground, I was humiliated to feel them crumple under me and I grabbed for his strong arm. He was quick to understand the problem, and I found myself facing him, securely wrapped in his arms, my feet barely touching the ground.

“I’m sorry. I think my feet have gone to sleep.” I looked up, waiting to see if he would make fun of my weakness.

“You need not apologize. You did not complain, so I kept pushing the pace.” His handsome face reflected only concern. “I should have been more considerate of your needs. Here, sit on this felled tree and let me get the circulation moving in your feet again.”

He helped me over to the skeleton of a fallen tree and lifted me to a seat near the broken trunk. My legs dangled down without touching the ground, and I grabbed at the dry branches to keep my balance. Thus seated I was almost level with his waist, which allowed him to easily pull my boots off one at a time. Then, starting with my right foot, he began firmly kneading and rubbing everything from my numbed pad all the way up my calf and back to my toes.

I felt suddenly all Marilyn Monroe–like as my eyes went to half-mast and a moan escaped my lips.

“Too hard?” He looked up from his work.

“Shh, don’t talk. My leg is having a deep and meaningful experience with your hands. Let’s not interrupt them.”

He chuckled deep in his throat.

“Is the feeling coming back to your foot?”

“All sorts of feelings are coming back to me. Which in particular are you asking about?”

He just smiled and switched to my other foot.

“Mmm. You’re very good at that.” I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that a man is much like a puppy—he needs to be praised and rewarded when he does well. “Thank you.”

Having filled the praise square, my mind was happily contemplating the reward category, when he gave my calf a firm slap—which snapped me out of my decidedly R-rated daydream.

“I think you will have better luck walking now.” He lifted me off my branch and stood me next to him. He was right; my feet did work better now. But for an instant I considered pretending otherwise.

“Right you are. But before I put those boots back on, do we have time for me to soak my feet in the stream?”

“Just a short time, Rhiannon. I want to be certain we are within sight of MacCallan Castle before the sun sets today.”

“Will we be there that soon?” Knowledge of what we would find at the castle settled heavily in the pit of my stomach.

“You could stay here and let me take care of what needs to be done at the castle.” His voice was gentle.

“Thank you, but no. He is my father. It’s my responsibility, and I have to see for myself what happened to him.”

“I understand and I will be there with you.” He reached out slowly, almost reluctantly, and took my hand.

I realized suddenly that he probably didn’t want to like me. For all he knew, any second I was going to turn back into a bitchy slut who didn’t have any intention of caring anything about him, and who never wanted this marriage—temporary or not. The kindness he continued to show me was a testament to the depth of integrity he must possess. His reaching out to me must have been an amazingly difficult thing for him to do.

So I gave him my best “good boy! good boy!” smile and squeezed his hand.

“I’m glad you’ll be with me. But now I need some privacy to, well, you know.”

He smiled and squeezed my hand in return before dropping it and heading to the stream to join the rest of the centaurs. “I will be close by if you need me.”

“I’m so sure I’d rather die first…” I muttered as I tramped delicately off to find a nearby bush, being careful not to step my bare feet in any stickers. At least the hunk of cheese seemed to have stopped me up—which was truly a blessing.

Joining the boys back at the stream, I crouched and drank deeply of the clear, icy water, washing my face and running wet fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame my wild curls. Plopping my butt on the dry bank, I let the water run over and around my feet while I tried to do something with my hair.

“Allow me, my Lady.” I looked over my shoulder to see ClanFintan kneeling behind me with a piece of leather in one hand and a wide-toothed comb in another. I recognized the leather as one like the thong that held his thick mane (well, what would you call it?) of hair back out of the way. Before I could respond, he had pulled free what remained of Alanna’s French braid and was working the comb through my wild red tangles. I sighed happily and closed my eyes. In far too short a time he had it tied neatly back. “That should stay out of your way.”