In one heartbeat, against his best efforts, he collapsed into the water. It took several seconds before he was able to push himself back to the bank. Great ... now I'm covered with mud, too. Leave it to him to look like a complete, incompetent ass in front of the most beautiful girl he'd ever met.
One who wasn't trying to molest him.
She crawled toward him, patting gently against the ground until she located his leg. Slowly, she made her way up his hip and back to his shoulder and then head. She pulled back the moment she touched his cheek. "You're bleeding."
"Sorry ... here..." He ripped a part of his chiton off and used it to clean her hand for her.
She frowned at his actions. "Why are you cleaning my hand when you're the one bleeding?"
"I didn't want you to soil your gown."
"But you're bleeding." She was incredulous.
"It's all right. Really. I do that a lot."
She took his makeshift cloth from his hand to the water and dampened it then returned to gently bathe his injured cheek.
Lying on his back, Styxx closed his eyes at the tenderness of her graceful hand on his skin. She smelled like lilies and eucalyptus. Of warmth and sunshine. And a part of him wondered if her glowing, flawless skin would taste as sweet as it appeared. "What's your name?"
"Bethany."
He repeated it silently, savoring the beautiful syllables of a name he'd never heard before.
"And you are?"
He caught himself before he automatically answered. Like hers, his name was unusual, especially for a man. If she heard it, she'd know immediately who he was, and he didn't want her to hate him the way everyone else did. To her, he wasn't the spoiled, idiot prince. He was just ...
An incompetent, idiot commoner.
"Hector."
She smiled at him. "Hector, do you know where your horse is?"
"I fear he went in search of a more competent rider who wouldn't embarrass him in the future."
She laughed out loud. A light, sweet sound that made his heart skip a beat. She pressed her lips together. "How can you joke when you're in so much pain?"
"To hear you laugh, my lady, I'd gladly throw myself off a hundred cliffs."
Cocking her head, she frowned. "Are you flirting with me, Hector?"
Was he?
"I ... I don't know."
She widened her hazel-gold eyes. "You don't know?"
"I'm not exactly experienced with women, my lady. I don't normally converse with them. So I'm not sure if this would be considered flirting or not."
She pulled back to rinse out the cloth. "What do you do that you're not around women?"
Ah ... damn. What did normal people do? Did men interact with women in a regular life? He had no way of knowing.
"I ... um ... I work with my father. The only girl I'm around is my sister and we don't really talk. And I definitely don't flirt with her."
"I should hope not." Smiling again, she moved her hand down his neck, feeling for more injuries. In spite of the excruciating pain he was in, her touch set fire to his blood. He couldn't explain it, but there was something familiar and comforting about her. As if he'd known her forever.
"Why are you here alone, Bethany? Is there no one watching over you?"