A Perfect Hero by Samantha James

shaking chills. Once he woke and stared at her through searing, golden eyes. Julianna had the unsettling sensation he saw right through her, as if she weren’t even there. She chafed at her helplessness, their isolation. She had no medicine. All she could do was keep the wound clean, and wait.
    She was exhausted, but afraid to sleep, afraid he might need her. By noon the following day, her mind was made up. If he was not better by the next morning, she would ride out. There had to be a village somewhere. A road. A farm nearby. There had to be something she could do.
    But what if someone realizes he’s the Magpie? chided a voice in her mind. What then? How will you feel then?
    Like a traitor, she admitted. It made no sense, for she owed him nothing. She had taken care of him as best she was able. Yet she couldn’t explain her strange feelings toward him. It was almost akin to...loyalty. Oh, but it made no sense! And that, too, she didn’t understand.
    Yet one thing was abundantly clear. She couldn’t let him die either.
    Stirring the fire, her mind made up, she resumed her vigil at the bedside. She had drawn a chair close so she could watch him. His brows and the lock of hair on his forehead were very dark against his skin, which was bleached of color. She brushed at the hair that persisted in springing forward on his forehead, the gesture oddly tender.
    “You have to be all right, Dane. You have to.”
    Almost before she knew what she was about, her hand crept within his where it rested on the blanket; his fingers curled around hers. He seemed to like that—indeed, she could have sworn he rested easier when she touched him. More than once her head drooped, and she jerked herself awake.
    It was Maximilian who knew even before she did...he leaped up onto the bed and stretched out beside his master.
    It gave her a start to discover Dane’s eyes open wide and focused directly upon her. But this time his regard was clear and steady.
    “You’re still here. I thought I dreamed it.”
    His voice was hoarse and rusty.
    “How do you feel?” she asked.
    He shot her a telling look. The golden brown of his eyes was a stark contrast to the bristly shadow of his beard. He looked rather danger ous, his jaw rough and dark with stubble, but his features were rimmed with fatigue.
    His eyes closed. She both saw and heard the uneven breath he took. “How long?” he rasped.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    His eyes opened. He wet his lips with his tongue. “How long have I been unconscious?”
    “Since yesterday morning.”
    His gaze traveled to the windows, where day light cast a mellow glow within the cottage. “The entire day?” He shook his head. “That’s not possible.”
    Julianna smiled slightly. “I’m afraid it is.”
    Dane said nothing. His gaze had fallen to their hands. Julianna snapped hers back to her lap. She could feel the heat of a blush creeping beneath her skin.
    A dark brow hiked upward, but he chose to make no comment. Julianna was heartily grate ful. Her heart gave an odd little flutter. Vaguely, she wondered what it would be like to feel the hardness of his lips moving over hers...Blast the man! What was it about him that affected her so? She was not in the habit of thinking thusly about any man. And why it should be this man, she had no idea . . .
    The thought was abruptly cut off when he sat up and pushed the blanket aside.
    “What the devil are you doing?”
    “What the devil does it look like?” he retorted.
    Julianna surged upright. The chair hurtled backward, hitting the planked flooring with a bang. She paid no heed. “You are not to get up,” she admonished sternly. “Do you hear me, sir?”
    He was frowning as ferociously as she. “My dearest Julianna, it’s impossible not to.” With a grimace he swung his feet to the floor. “And under the circumstances, don’t you think it’s utterly ridiculous that you persist in calling me ‘sir’? My name is Dane.”
    “Very well then. Dane. Now