Free Lancelot's Lady by Cherish D'Angelo Page A

as though she might faint.
    Heaving an irritated sigh, he grabbed the dress from the branch, held it out and averted his face. " There. Satisfied? "
    The soft splash of water was the only reply.
    He felt a cool, damp hand brush his as she took the dress. He glanced sideways, unable to resist a peek.
    His breath stopped.
    Damn. It ' s been far too long.
    The natural curves of Rhianna ' s body and the movements she made as she struggled to pull the dress over her head, drew a physical response from him, one he hadn ' t felt in months. He wanted her. Of that, there was no question. The dress clung to her, absorbing the wetness of her skin, and she fought to smooth the fabric
    " Let me help you, " he offered.
    " No! " She caught his gaze and spun around. " Stop watching me! "
    " But you need some― "
    " Don ' t touch me! " she shrieked. " You know, you didn ' t have to follow me out here. Or sneak up on me. And I certainly don ' t need you…to… " She let out a strangled huff.
    " I made enough noise on that path for three people, " he snapped, stan ding with his back to her. " And if you hadn ' t stormed outside, I wouldn ' t have felt obligated to go after you. "
    Hell, he wasn ' t going to defend his intentions to some woman. It was his damned island, after all. He could go wherever the hell he pleased.
    He made the mistake of glancing over his shoulders at the same time Rhianna leaned forward to shimmy the dress over her hips.
    Jonathan swallowed the lump in his throat. " Just make sure you don ' t ― "
    He didn ' t have time to complete his warning.
    A shriek echoed through the night.
    ~ * ~
    One minute Rhianna was standing an arm ' s length away from Jonathan; the next she was sitting on the ground, covered in mud. She wiped her mouth on her arm, wanting not hing else but to have a good cry. She deserved one after tonight.
    She glared up at Jonathan. The corners of his mouth jerked in small spasms. The bastard was laughing at her.
    " Don ' t even think about it, " she warned. " It ' s not funny! "
    A grin spread across his face. " Actually, it kinda is. "
    " You bastard. "
    " Possibly. " He shrugged. " I ' m sorry. "
    " Yeah, right. Sure you are. "
    Rhianna couldn ' t take her eyes off him. Moonlight filtered through the trees, emphasizing the hardness of his body and the tension in his face. As his eyes drifted from hers down to the mud smeared on her thighs, an unfamiliar ache snaked through her body, weaving its way downward. It was as if he ' d stripped away her last remnants of clothing with his thoughts, leaving her naked and trembling.
    She shivered.
    " Come on, city girl, " he muttered, breaking the spell. " Only animals roll around in the mud. You look ―well, how can I put it politely? You look like hell. And you need a bath. "
    She couldn ' t believe his audacity.
    A wicked idea formed in her mind.
    " You ' re right, " she said, holding out her hand.
    Jonathan leaned down, and before he could guess what she had in mind, Rhianna clasped his hand and gave it a quick, hard tug. He landed on his stomach, sliding past her in the mud.
    Rhianna snorted. " Didn ' t you say that only animals roll in the mud? Who needs a bath now? "
    Jonathan raised his head slowly and she saw the warning in his narrowed eyes. It told her she was down to one choice.
    Run!
    With a startled yelp, she leapt to her feet and took off into the dense brush. Branches caught at her already-ruined dress, ripping a long tear in the shoulder. Behind her, she heard Jonathan crashing through the bushes.
    " For Christ ' s sake, stop running! " he bellowed.
    There was no way in hell she was going to do that.
    As she raced toward the faint golden light that she prayed was the house, two thoughts occupied Rhianna ' s jumbled mind. Was Jonathan as angry as he looked?
    And what will he do when he catches me?

 
    Chapter 10
     
    Rhianna tried to use the moon as a guide, but eventually she had to admit she was lost. The path didn ' t lead back to the house