My Heart's Desire (Barrett 1)

Alex shifted slightly, her eyes wide with interest. “What do you mean?”

“The Saint Lawrence is at our doorstep, providing us with water to drink and to bathe. It is also rich with more kinds of fish than you can imagine. That, combined with the native fruits and berries, will be more than sufficient to feed us.” He held up the knife that he carried with him at all times, tucked in his breeches. “This and the dense cluster of trees on the island can provide us with more than suitable shelter for those times when we need it. Also—”

“You sound as if we will be staying forever!” she interrupted.

He shot her an impatient look. “I was about to say that the Indians used the boles of elm trees to make their canoes. During the time that you are recovering, I can begin to construct a raft of sorts to help us safely reach Canada.”

“I want to help.”

“You can help by getting well.”

“I am not a good patient.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” He walked over and knelt down beside her. “Will you be all right if I leave you for a short while?”

Alex felt a surge of panic. “Where are you going?”

He ran his finger down the slender bridge of her nose. “Just to get us some food. We haven’t eaten in over a day. You need to eat in order to get your strength back.” His eyes twinkled. “And you need to get your strength back in order to make yourself useful.”

“To help you?” she asked eagerly.

“Among other things.” He gave her a suggestive look and chuckled at her blush. “I’ll be within calling distance, should you need me.” He stood. “I don’t want to see you move,” he warned, scowling. “As it is we have a few things to settle about your lack of ability to heed my instructions. Let us not add additional items to that ever-growing list, shall we?”

She gave him a weak smile. “I suppose I must obey?”

“Definitely.”

Her look was innocent. “Must I also submit?”

“Over my dead body.”

Alex smiled, listening to the sound of his footsteps move away toward the water. Above her, the sun was rising higher in the sky, drenching the island in brilliant rays of light. They were alone in this exquisite Eden, with none of the luxuries that Sudsbury provided, fewer even than those enjoyed aboard La Belle Illusion. They had no clothes, no servants, and only the most primitive means of survival. The real world seemed distant, insignificant. Far away were all their differences, all that had come between them in the past.

Alex closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the sunlight warming her face. Who knew how long it would take to build a raft that could carry them back to civilization?

She hoped it would take an aeon.

Chapter 18

“THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO reason why I cannot provide dinner for us tonight!”

Alex stood before him, a diminutive waif clad only in a lacy chemise that was rather the worse for wear, her thick unruly waves of hair bleached more gold than brown by the sun. A delicate, desirable little flower that would have made any man want to shelter and protect her.

Except that her eyes were shooting silver daggers in his direction, her perfect, sensual mouth was set in familiar defiance, and her hands were planted on her slim hips in a bellicose stance.

Drake grinned, leaning against the heavy trunk of a tall oak and stroking the thickening beard that now covered his handsome face. “I appreciate the offer, princess, really I do. But I fear we would starve waiting for you to prepare a meal. Need I remind you that there is no servant to obtain the food from the market, nor is there a cook who is ready to demonstrate his fine culinary skill in a spacious kitchen?”

“Damn you, Drake Barrett, I am well aware of what has to be done!” she snapped back. Hadn’t she already proved she could survive without the luxuries and pampering of her aristocratic upbringing? “I don’t recall seeing any servants aboard La Belle Illusion, and yet somehow I managed alone. I am tired of your sarcastic comments and I am tired of being waited on! I feel fine and am no longer an invalid.”

His grin widened. No, indeed, that she was not. In fact he knew exactly when she had begun to get better. Strange that there was a direct parallel between her improving health and her shrewish tongue. For the first few days she had been content to have him care for her, remaining docile as a kitten as he had fed and washed her and tended to her wounds. She had rested in the tall, cool grasses during the time it had taken him to build the lean-to that was now their home. Once it was completed, she had remained within its shelter, sleeping on and off throughout the day, weak as a baby. He had been scared to death.

And now, ten days later, she was bellowing like a fishmonger. He wondered how she would react if she knew what his thoughts really were. Looking at her now, her magnificent breasts heaving with indignation, Drake felt a surge of lust that shook his entire being. It had been too long since he had put her breathtaking passion to its best use.

There were definite advantages to having a fishmonger for a wife.

“Are you going to answer me?” she demanded, glaring up at him.

“Certainly,” he replied good-naturedly. “What would you like me to say?”