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and
stretched along the ledge. Reaching for his canteen, he sipped
slowly until the flask was empty and he was steady again. Then he
glanced to the tree. The girl still hadn’t moved. Her eyes were
fixed on him.
    “ You could do with a
wash,” he said, dropping into the pool. “So are you getting in, or
are you just going to watch?”
    She smiled, then kicked off her boots and
unbuckled her holster. Her oversized blouse fell just below her
hips when her breeches dropped to the ground. The Wanderer admired
the long muscles gripping her thighs, the meat of her calves
tapering to shapely ankles. The girl hesitated, but he floated on
his back and kept watching. She cocked one brow at him before
taking hold of her shirt.
    His breath caught in his throat when she
pulled her blouse over her head. Before the garment fluttered to
the ground, the Wanderer ducked underwater, propelling himself
against the icy current flowing into the pool. His heart pounded
from the image etched in his mind. He usually preferred lush
womanly curves, but he couldn’t deny the girl was lovely. Her body
was a marriage of muscle and flesh that created a harmony of
softness and strength. Her modest breasts stood high. Ropy sinews
carved her waist and held her belly flat, then swelled into the
subtle round hips that guarded her pubis.
    The Wanderer didn’t come up for air until
his arousal tapered off. He was embarrassed when the girl smirked
at him, but he didn’t look away. Her skin was golden in the beams
of light filtering through the trees, that star-shaped pendant she
always wore resting between her breasts.
    Then she stepped to the pool. The sun hit
the facets of the crystal and he was suddenly dizzy, blinded by a
swirl of color. His pulse roared in his ears and sharpness burst
inside his chest, the unexpected pain sinking him. The Wanderer
choked and kicked hard to push his head above water, lunging for
the shelf. His knees scraped against the grains at the bottom and
he leaned over the ledge, wracked with coughing until he expelled
the water he swallowed.
    But the girl was more agitated than he was.
Collapsed against the tree, her face was white and her eyes had
gone black. Her features contorted and she heaved through her nose,
biting her lower lip. One hand gnarled and trembled between her
breasts, holding the pendant tight. She pulled the necklace over
her head, her fingers unfolding slowly and dropping the crystal
into the heap of clothes.
    The Wanderer had the sense he’d been
released somehow. His breath came easier and he got out of the
pool, lying prone on the ledge with his head resting on his arms.
His heartbeat slowed gradually and the quivering in his limbs
settled down. The girl also needed a few minutes to steady herself;
so she sat at the edge of the pool with her legs dangling in the
water. Then she dropped in to her shoulders, her hair waving on the
surface.
    When she stood up, the water rose to the
crest of her hips. She strolled around the shelf, ignoring the
Wanderer as she passed until she found a place where the water
seemed pleasing to her. Using handfuls of the fine grains, she
scrubbed herself, getting as much of the grime from her skin as she
could. Suddenly, she stopped and glanced at the Wanderer. The
corners of her mouth turned down when she saw him still watching
her.
    He flushed. Remembering why he came to the
pool, he reached for his clothes and soap. Following her example,
he scrubbed himself with the mineral grains before opening the
bottle. Both the soap and oil had been parting gifts from a clan of
nomads he’d traveled with a couple of years ago and he used these
sparingly. A small coin of liquid was enough to make a generous
lather from his head to his hips. The scent of myrrh made him sigh
and he allowed the soap to linger on his flesh as he soaked his
clothes, rubbed them against the rocks, and washed them with excess
suds.
    He glanced at the girl and considered
offering his soap, but she had summoned