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She looked over her shoulder at him.

His gaze moved from her to his shirt, as if to check he’d redonned his clothing properly. He smoothed his hands down the fabric. “What? Why?”

“Rich man’s clothes,” she said and turned back to the river. With a flick, she cast the line into the moving water, then glanced at him once more. “Soft hands,” she muttered.

“You seem excessively preoccupied with my clothes.” He glanced at his hands, opening them wide.

He’d obviously heard her, and his fading smile at her snipe made her feel guilty. Unable to look at him, she turned back to her line.

“Why is that?” he asked.

She shushed him and forced herself not to turn, irritated and put out by his presence, even if he was easy to look at. She pulled the line back in and recast it, her thoughts trying to put together the details Ollie had shared that weren’t adding up. A rich man from the north but not a Northman? It was like a riddle. Jast made the most sense. She glanced at him over her shoulder and wondered if he could be part of the royal party—one of the nobles—then looked back at the swiftly moving river and flicked the line, reeling it back in. But why would he be separated from them?

After a few minutes, a rock plopped into the water near her.

She turned and looked at Ollie standing on the shore and watched him throw another rock into the water near her. He grinned.

Irritated—mostly at herself for wanting to smile—she narrowed her eyes. “You don’t want to eat?”

“I do. I’m just bored. I need some entertainment.”

She bristled and turned back to the water. Of all the stupid things… this was her time. Hers! And here she was, having saved his life, and he was chasing away dinner. And she wanted to flirt with the man. A man who’d probably never been hungry in his life, wearing boots like that.

Another rock—a much larger one—plunked into the water near her. The splash doused her.

Angry, she turned.

Ollie was standing a few feet away, holding his side and laughing.

She waded toward him and slapped the pole against his chest. “You catch dinner then.”

He winked at her.

The audacity.

She stomped to a rock nearby and sat to wait.

And he started humming.

The nerve!

Tarley wanted to scream but pressed her teeth together instead to keep from letting him know how annoyed she was.

When he grew silent, the warmth of the sun coupled with the music of the water moving through the forest lulled her. She glanced at the river. At him. His back was to her, and she let herself to admire the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders and back as he moved. The way the fabric bunched and flowed over his muscles.

He pulled the line and cast. Pulled and cast. Checked the bait. Cast and pulled. It was a beautiful rhythm, and Tarley admired the view.

She was pleasantly surprised to learn he could fish. But she couldn’t watch him any longer and looked away as her thoughts slid toward the physical impulses in her body. Toward the memories of laying in his arms the last several nights, her body protected in the heat of his. Of the warmth of his breath caressing her skin. He’d been a complete gentleman, hadn’t crossed any lines, though his body moved through its normal courses as hers did, and she’d certainly noticed his morning erections. Her breath tightened considering it, her pulse quickening, a heaviness between her legs.

All unwelcome.

She leaned back onto her hands and tilted her face toward the sun. The river reflected the green of trees and the blue of the sky. The sun headed toward the horizon cast a warm glow over everything, and its warmth made her eyelids heavy. She laid back onto the rock and gazed up at the sky, the clouds drifting overhead.

A sound forced her eyes open.

The sky was a swirl of orange and violet, the sun hovering near the horizon. With a gasp she sat up, but she wasn’t in the fishing spot anymore. Instead, she was at her favorite swimming hole. It was where her father had taught her and her siblings to swim with stories of giant fish looking for wishes and fresh-water mermaids seeking to capture children.

The light from a fire caught her attention. Near it, stood a shadow of someone. Ollie. He was bent over, dropping wood into the growing fire. The yellow-orange light drifted over his features, undulating as if dancing. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, Auri’s suitor Nix notwithstanding. For a moment, his physical inducement made him dangerous, but she dismissed the initial thought for one more pleasant.