His brisk laugh interrupted, and his hands went to the cloth belt around her waist. “It is not possible for you to disappoint me.”
“I most certainly can,” she insisted. “When first I drew my maps they were not at all good, though my father told me I had talent. It took time and much practice.”
Magnus laughed again. “Then we will practice as much as you like.”
“You will not mind if at first I disappoint you?”
His hands grasped the sides of her tunic and drew it up and over her head, leaving her wearing only her shift, the wet garment clinging to her chilled skin. After letting the tunic fall to join the cloak, he took hold of her arms. “I love you, Reena, you could never disappointment me. Besides, you have a passion in you that cannot be denied. It is in everything you do, from your drawings to your love of others to your joy of mapping. It is who you are, a woman full of passion and life.”
“You make me sound more than I truly am.”
“Nay, you simply need to learn who you truly are.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Now finish undressing while I see to the food.”
He walked to the fire, squatted down, and slowly turned the stick so that the roasting bird would cook evenly and not burn. He kept his back to her, giving her privacy to rid herself of her remaining wet garment, but as she did she could not help but judge herself. What womanly qualities did she truly possess? Her breasts were barely a handful and her hips were narrow, though they had rounded some since food was no longer scarce and her appetite heartier. Many of the village women commented on how birthing would be difficult for her, and then there was her height, a mere two inches, no more, over five feet.
Whatever did he find attractive about her?
She was who she was, not beautiful, small in size and a mapmaker, certainly not the makings of a good wife. Or was there something she failed to see about herself? Was there something for her to learn?
She stared at his back, broad and strong and carrying the weight of far too many, and yet he remained caring and honorable. He had even turned his back so that she might undress in private.
The Legend certainly was a man of honor; she could see that clearly. Why, then, could she not see herself as clearly?
She quickly finished the task he had started, wrapping a soft brown wool blanket around herself once she stood naked. Then she spread her wet garments out on a large boulder to dry and sat herself down by the fire, adjusting the blanket around her and leaving her shoulders bare. Her long dark hair hung down her back, rainwater dripping from the ends of her hair onto the blanket.
He stood after hearing her sit and quickly shed his tunic and shirt, and her breath caught when he turned to face her. Muscles rippled over his chest and down his stomach. They filled his arms, and the firelight glistened off his damp skin, making him appear as though the fire had kissed it.
“Unlike you, I have no problem standing naked before you, so if it disturbs you to see me naked—” His hands went to the ties at his waist, and Reena closed her eyes in a flash.
She heard his laugh and felt like a coward.
“In time, Ree,” he said quietly and sat down beside her, a blanket wrapped around his waist. “You will not be able to get enough of me naked.”
It was her turn to laugh. “You are so sure of yourself?”
“Nay,” he whispered in her ear. “I am sure of you.”
She opened her eyes and turned her head, their lips brushed once, twice, three times, and then he kissed her.
A sudden crash of thunder rocked the ground and startled them apart.
“Do you think the heavens warn us?” she asked.
“Aye, they do, the heavens grow tired of us delaying our union as man and wife. We are meant to be together, for I think we are the only ones who understand each other.”
“You jest with me,” she said and teasingly poked him in the arm. It was a solid wall of muscle and warm flesh, and it sent a tingle running down her spine. “Though I do agree that we understand each other better than most.”
The scent of the cooking bird grew heavy in the air, and Reena sniffed it appreciatively and gave a small yawn.
“Hungry and tired?” he asked with concern.
She wiped away a small spot of rain that had settled on his chest from the wet ends of his hair. “You care so very much.”
“Of course I care, I love you.”
She shook her head slowly. “Nay, I do not mean only me.”