Stranger in Camelot Read Free

loan.”
    “Sorry about the embarrassment.”
    “Don’t apologize for being gallant.” She looked at him with an intrigued expression, then glanced at the faded chintz-covered couch. The cushions where she’d lain had a wet outline of her body. Frowning, she wiped drops of water from a torn place in the upholstery. “Guess it’s a good thing I donated the priceless antiques to the Smithsonian.”
    “Yes, I like this style much better.”
    “I must get up. See about the mares.”
    John placed a hand on her shoulder when she started to scoot past him. “That’s a nasty bump, Miss Hamilton. Your horses are fine. Rest.”
    She stared at him, then at his broad, darkly haired hand. Her breasts rose and fell swiftly under his shirt. Her eyes darted anxiously to his bare chest, then back to his face. She gave him a cold look of warning.
    John casually dropped his hand to his knee. She was looking at him the way a woman did when she distrusted men—all men—intensely. He felt even more protective toward her. “You don’t have to be nervous. I know this is an odd situation, but you’ve got nothing to worry about where I’m concerned.”
    That might be untrue in some ways, he thought a bit guiltily.
    She shuddered and exhaled a long, tired breath. “Sorry. Don’t take it personally.” Tilting her head, she studied him with fascination again. “I guess you’re the first man who rescued me from anything, and I keep wanting to pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming.”
    “Please, no pinching. You’ve got one bruise already.” He was glad to see her smile at his teasing. “I’ll check on your horses for you, if you like. All right, Agnes?”
    “Who told you my name?” He sat back on his heels to give her space. He knew he was too large and brawny to look harmless, but a lot of women found that appealing. He hoped Agnes Hamilton was one of them.
    “You’re listed on the bulletin board at the crossroads grocery,” he said. “ ‘Hamilton Lake and Campground. Aggie Hamilton, owner.’ Your advertisement is right under the one for a fishing supplies store. I was looking at ‘Live Worms and Shrimp—Cheap,’ and then I found you.”
    She smiled again. “There are other campgrounds listed on that board.”
    “True. I’m lucky, I suppose.” He held out the wet dishcloth as if it were a gift. She took it slowly and dabbed it against her bruise. Her hair was a mass of wet ringlets that twirled several inches below her shoulders.
    She could have stepped from a shower. Easy enough to envision her naked and surrounded by steam, John thought. Too easy. “I was trying to lead the horses safely into the woods,” he told her. “Not using one for a free ride.”
    With painful effort she cocked a dark-red brow and studied him solemnly. “What’s a British tourist doing so far off the beaten track? You ought to fire your travel agent.”
    “I wanted to roam the back roads of America. I’m here for a whole month. I decided to rent a Jeep and go wherever the mood took me. Besides, this isn’t sosecluded. I hear that St. Augustine is a lovely, large town. And it’s close by, isn’t it?”
    “Fifteen minutes.” She held her head and shut her eyes. Her pale complexion, sprinkled with almond-colored freckles across the nose, was turning a sallow color. She had exactly five freckles. John had counted them. “I’m a little dizzy,” she said.
    He rose to his feet quickly. “I think an X ray of that lovely noggin is in order. If you’ll trust me to drive your car, and you’ll give me highway directions, I’ll carry you to hospital.”
    “Carry me to hospital?” she mimicked gently, doing a surprisingly good imitation of his accent. “I don’t like hospitals, but the way you put it, going to one sounds pretty quaint.”
    “ ‘Kindness it is that brings forth kindness always.’ ”
    “Hmmm, a philosophy lesson.”
    “The ancient Greeks had a way with words. ‘One who knows how to show and to accept