But it was bad. He was dragging it behind him and she could feel that every step took him to the edge.
She felt close to the edge herself. How much worse must it be for him?
‘If I were you, I’d be screaming in agony,’ she managed, and she felt him stiffen. She could feel his tension, his fear—and now his shock.
‘Smash...Smash ’em Mary screams in agony?’
‘I’m good at it,’ she confessed. ‘It’s great for getting free points from the referee.’
‘You’re...kidding me.’
‘Nope.’ She was trying desperately to sound normal, to keep the exhaustion from her voice as they hauled themselves one appalling step after another. Dizziness was washing over her in waves, but she wouldn’t succumb. ‘I’ve watched wrestlers on the telly. I swear their agony is pretend but they make millions. Some day I might.’
‘As a wrestler, or with roller derby?’
‘I might need to work on my muscles a bit for wrestling. I should have done it earlier. Muscles’d be helping now.’
They surely would. He was doing his best but she was practically dragging him.
Left to his own devices, he’d have lain where he was until the storm passed. Or not. This diminutive woman was giving him no choice.
‘Mary—’
‘Shut up and keep going.’
‘You don’t have to—’
‘Lie down and we lie down together,’ she muttered, grim with determination. ‘I don’t give up. I might get it horribly wrong, but I don’t give up. Ever.’
He had no clue what that meant. All he knew was that she was iron. She wasn’t faltering. No matter how steep the ground grew, she wasn’t slowing.
But she stopped talking. She must be as close to the edge as he was, he thought. If he could only help...
And then suddenly, blessedly, the ground flattened. His leg jolted with the shock of a change of levels but she didn’t pause.
‘Heinz... Heinz’s waiting just round this corner.’ She was gasping for breath, not bothering to disguise her distress now they were on level ground.
‘Heinz?’
‘My...my guard dog.’
Somehow she hauled him another few steps, around a bluff that instantly, magically chopped off the screaming wind. Ten more steps took them towards darkness...the mouth of a cave? Five more steps and they were inside. The rain ceased. The light dimmed.
‘Welcome to my lair,’ Mary managed, and that was all she could get out.
‘I can’t...’ she muttered—and she folded into a crumpled heap.
What the...?
Somehow he dropped beside her, fumbling to lift her head, to clear her face from the sandy ground. Was this a faint? Please, God, let this just be exhaustion. To have hauled him so far...
This woman had put her own life on the line to save his. She’d given her all and more. Her faint had to be from sheer exhaustion, he told himself fiercely. It had to be. If it was worse, he’d carry the guilt for the rest of his life.
Her eyes were open, dazed, confused.
‘Hey,’ he managed. ‘It’s okay. We’re safe now. You’ve saved me, now it’s your turn to relax.’
He was so close to the edge himself. He could do so little but he did his best. Somehow he got his arm under her shoulders. He lifted her head so her face was resting on his chest instead of the rock and sand. He felt her heartbeat against his.
Somehow he hauled her deeper into the cave, tugging her along with him. His leg jabbed like a red-hot poker smashing down.
They were out of the wind. They were out of danger.
He held her but he could do no more. The darkness was closing in. The pain in his leg... He couldn’t think past it.
Exhaustion held sway. He closed his eyes and the dim light became dark.
Copyright © 2014 by Marion Lennox
ISBN-13: 9781460333310
BECOMING THE PRINCE’S WIFE
Copyright © 2014 by Rebecca Winters
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Becoming the Prince's Wife (Princes of Europe) Page 17