He made her so nervous that she cut her thumb. In shock, she sat there staring at the blood welling from the cut.
He grabbed her hand and looked at it. “What do you know? It’s red like the rest of us peons. Go stick your hand in the water.”
When she didn’t move, he pulled her upright and dragged her toward the stream and pushed her down until her hand was in the water. “Lady, you are the most useless human I ever met. You’re not good for much but living in an ivory tower. What do you people do, just marry each other and produce more useless brats?”
Aria’s hand was beginning to throb. “I am engaged to marry Count Julian of Borgan-Hessia.”
“Oh?” J.T. lifted her hand and inspected the cut. “Ever met him?”
“Of course. I’ve met him three times and danced with him four times.”
“Four times! It’s a wonder you didn’t get pregnant. Don’t look so shocked, get over there and finish the shrimp.”
Crude, vulgar man. The dungeon would be too good for him. She’d have to come up with a better punishment, something humiliating and disgusting. “My hand is injured. I cannot…Where are your…your…private facilities.”
“See all these trees? They are one big toilet.”
Trying to keep her composure, she walked away toward the narrow path. Once she started, she didn’t stop. The man was hideous. No one had ever spoken to her as he had. She had never realized anyone ever spoke to anyone else as this man did. But she would not stoop to his level of crudity. She was hungry, thirsty, tired, and hot but at least she was away from him.
It wasn’t easy for her to find her way to the beach but she finally made it. Perhaps there would be a boat to come by the island and she could hail it. She walked along the beach, stepping into ankle-deep mounds of rotting seaweed and straining her eyes to see across the ocean’s horizon.
There were few shells on the beach but she did see what looked to be long, narrow blue balloons. She stopped to pick one up.
“Don’t touch that!”
Her hand came away and she turned to glare up at him. He was on the rise of land above the beach. “Are you following me?”
He had his military rifle with him and he dropped it, butt down on the ground. “You say your country has vanadium?”
“A great deal of it.” She bent again to touch the balloon.
“That’s a man of war,” he said quickly, “and on the bottom are tentacles that can sting. The pain often kills people.”
“Oh,” she said, straightening and starting back down the beach. “You may leave me now.”
He followed her. “Leave you to get yourself killed? You have a propensity for getting into trouble. I don’t want you on the beach. Those two jokers who tried to kill you before might come back.”
“Perhaps your navy will send ships looking for me.”
They were at the palm tree now and he sat down, leaning his rifle against the tree. “I’ve just thought about it and I figure it’s my duty to protect you—or at least to protect the vanadium you own. You’ll have to come back to the clearing.”
The edge of the beach disappeared into water. “No thank you, Lieutenant Montgomery. I would rather sit here and watch for ships.” She sat down on the edge of the beach, her back straight, her hands in her lap.
J.T. leaned against the palm tree. “Suits me, just don’t get out of my sight. We have three more long days here and I plan to deliver you to the U.S. government safe and sound. When you get tired of eating your pride, let me know. I got blue crabs at the camp.”
Aria ignored him as he lay down and appeared to be dozing. The sun was hot and her stomach was growling with hunger. She imagined spring lamb and green beans with thyme. The sun flashed off the water but there was no sign of any sailing vessel.
Before her, swimming lazily in the water, was a large fish. She remembered how the man had speared a fish and cooked it over an open fire. It was the last meal she had had, so very many hours ago. She thought maybe she could make a fire, but how did one catch a fish?
She looked back at the man and saw he was sleeping. A foot from him rested his rifle. Rifles were something she understood since she had hunted game since she was a child.
Quietly, so as not to wake him, she climbed up the bank and had her hand on the rifle before he grabbed her wrist.
“What are you planning to do with that? Get rid of me?”
“I was going to catch a fish.”
He blinked a couple of times before he grinned. “What? Use a rifle as a fishing pole? Bullets for bait?”