Lovestorm Read Free

of his tail. The smaller, a young female, contented herself with several excited jumps and a widemouthed hissing.
    â€œWhat is it?” Shaakhan eased the paddle into the dugout slowly and laid it across his lap. “Do you wish to tell me something?”
    The male disappeared beneath the surface of the water and came up beside the female. For a moment, they lingered within arm’s length of Shaakhan, then both turned and made a final twisting leap before diving out of sight. When they surfaced again to breathe, it was nearly a bowshot away. Shaakhan saw only a flash of white, and then the dolphins were gone.
    Just beyond the point where the dolphins went under bobbed the strange object. Shaakhan lifted his paddle and turned the dugout in that direction. As he narrowed the distance between them, he realized it was some sort of canoe.
    Elizabeth lay on her back in the bottom of the longboat. She was no longer conscious of time or of being cold. In fact, she was hot; her face and arms, the surface of her skin, seemed to be burning up. Her mouth was parched, her lips swollen and cracked. Her eyes ached so badly that it hurt to try to open them.
    She knew the rain had ceased because she was so thirsty. She missed the sound of the drops hitting the wooden vessel. Now there was nothing but the rise and fall of the waves and the whoosh of water against the hull. Up and down . . . up and down . . . She threw an arm over her eyes and thought of ripe strawberries. Strawberries with fresh cream.
    The memory was so pleasant that she didn’t hear the scrape of wood as the two boats brushed against each other. She was unaware of the man binding the two crafts together with a bit of bark fishing line and climbing in beside her.
    â€œHokkuaa?”
    Elizabeth moaned deep in her throat and tossed her head. An arm slipped under her shoulder and lifted her up. “What?” She blinked as a man’s tanned face came into focus. “Where am I?” she gasped.
    â€œMumaane. Drink . . . drink this.”
    A few drops of sweet water trickled between her lips, and Elizabeth clutched at the gourd container.
    â€œNo, just a little,” the man cautioned in husky, precise English.
    She gulped at the precious liquid until he pulled it away. “Do I know you?” Her voice was cracked and weak. Was this real or a dream? Elizabeth willed her mind to function. “Who are you?”
    He smiled, his large, dark eyes kind in his bronzed face. “I am Cain,” he said. “Do not have fear. I will not harm you.”
    â€œA ship?” Elizabeth reached for the water gourd again. “Do you have a ship?” He let her have another sip of the water, and she closed her eyes in weariness. He looks like a pirate, she thought, but a gentle pirate. It was impossible to be afraid of those huge, liquid eyes.
    â€œYou are . . . on the great . . . great salt water,” he said. “I take you to land. Be not afraid.”
    She knew when he lifted her, but she was powerless to help or to resist him. He laid her on her side and removed his doeskin vest, covering her face with the soft garment.
    â€œTo stop the burn,” he said.
    The movement of the waves was different. When Elizabeth pushed away the covering and forced her eyes open, she saw the outline of the man above her, bare-chested, dark against the sky. “Who are you?” she asked again.
    He laughed softly. “I told you,” he said. “I am Cain.”
    â€³ But . . .” Her mind hovered between light and darkness. “Do I know you?”
    â€œYou know me,” he replied. “You have always known me.”

Chapter 2
    E lizabeth gradually became aware that there was no movement beneath her. The steady swish of the water was absent; she heard nothing but the sound of her own breathing. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and found she was in a small, shadowy room that smelled of pine boughs. She raised her right hand; it