A Perfect Hero by Samantha James Page A

tell me, Dane, where do you think you’re going?”
    He muttered an explosive curse.
    Her eyes flashed. “There is no need to swear!”
    “My dear, there is every need. It is not my in tention to offend your sensibilities. However, I do not know quite how to say this, other than...given the situation, I’m finding that a man has certain needs.” He paused, gauging her reaction.
    “Needs?” Her mouth popped open. Her blue eyes blazed and her spine went stiff. “How can you even be thinking of such things—”
    “Not,” he interrupted, “ those kinds of needs.” He slanted her what he hoped was a suitably meaningful gaze. “I don’t suppose you would be kind enough to leave me alone for a few minutes?”
    Julianna stood stock still. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh!” She gulped, her face burning as she practi cally flew out the door. She was tempted to tell him to call if he needed her, yet how would that have sounded?
    She allowed what was surely a suitably appropriate amount of time for him to use the chamber pot, then knocked on the door, still feeling rather foolish.
    There was no answer. She listened intently, then knocked again, more loudly this time.
    “Dane?” she called.
    He made no reply. Worried, she opened the door and peeked inside. He was standing near the table, a marked consternation on his features as he braced himself with one hand. Her embarrass ment fled, for he was pale as a sheet. He appeared ready to crash to the floor. She thrust a chair be hind him just as his knees gave way.
    “Everything is spinning.”
    “Put your head on the table.” Gently she pushed his head down.
    Long moments passed before he finally raised his head. She was relieved to note some of the color had seeped back into his face. “Christ,” he muttered.
    “How do you feel?”
    “Weak as a babe,” he admitted.
    “You lost a goodly amount of blood,” Julianna said quietly. “It may take some time before you feel quite like yourself again.”
    He sighed. “Well,” he murmured dryly, “it ap pears the tables have been turned. I am wholly in your hands then. Dare I trust you?”
    Julianna couldn’t withhold the smile that was creeping across her lips. “You can indeed,” she said briskly. “Now back to bed with you, si—”
    She broke off when his brows shot high, and he began shaking his head in reproof.
    She slipped an arm through his. “Back to bed with you, Dane.”
    This time she received no argument in return.
    It was later that she found herself reflecting . . . The tables had been turned indeed. The Magpie was totally in her hands. It was a strange thought to consider. Well, not completely in her hands, she decided. Weakness or not, there was an aura of leashed strength about him that nothing or no one could hide. His hard frame dominated most of thebed. Shewas notfooledbythe wayhelay still, quietly dozing. The sight of his naked chest was disconcerting, and she couldn’t prevent her eyes from straying to it again and again through out the day. More than once she felt her face grow hot, and she had to divert her attention elsewhere.
    In rummaging through the cupboard, she’d found some dried beef. He would never regain his strength if he didn’t eat, she reasoned. But she didn’t think it would be wise for him to eat too heavily.
    Several black iron kettles of varying sizes hung near the fireplace. Reaching up, she plucked the smallest from its berth. Filling it with fresh water from the well, she placed it on a hook suspended over the fire, threw in a handful of beef and a measure of salt. Dusting off her hands, she stepped back to wait. After feeding Percival, carrying in more wood and filling a bucket with water, she returned to the fire. Raising the lid, she sniffed and peered warily within. The liquid was dark and murky; it didn’t look particularly palatable. Oh, what she wouldn’t have given for a pastry and pot of chocolate!
    Nighttime shadows crept into the cabin. She lit several