Page 20 of Hunting for her Heart
After a few minutes, she tells us, “Okay, I’m done.”
The three of us spin to face her, and I suck in a sharp breath of surprise. A mountain of emotions crashes into me all at once, fighting for dominance. Seeing so much of her bare skin is delectable, at least it should be. But she’s covered in filth, scratches, and worst of all—bruises. She’s also much thinner than she should be.
“Who did this to you?” I ask in anger.
She wraps her arms around herself and looks down, telling me not to push her, that I need to go slow.
“Has no one been feeding you?” I ask a little gentler as anger coils in my belly.
She tries to cover herself up with her arms, looking embarrassed as she quietly answers, “Not so much.”
I want to ask what that means, but the primal need to take care of her overpowers every other feeling. I step forward, scooping her back up into my arms as gently as I can. I step over the rocks and carefully lower us into the water together.
She gasps when the cool water touches her skin, her arms moving to wrap around my neck as she turns her body to mine, clinging to my front as I place an arm under her backside for support.
I can feel her body trembling, so I rub her back gently. “It’s okay, my tiny treasure. I have you.”
“I-I can’t swim,” she admits, making me hold her a little closer as my confused eyes meet Bo’s, who’s stepped in the water with us as Hawk stands guard. How can anyone not know how to swim?
A hundred questions spring to mind, demanding me toask her, but I know I have to take this slow. She’s a flight risk right now and needs to know that we are going to take care of her, not just pepper her with non-stop questions.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I tell her, “We will keep you safe. It’s shallow here, so you’ll be able to stand. Do you want to try? So we can clean you?”
She pulls her head back and looks at Bo. Seeing him standing there with the water up to his waist, has her nodding her head as she unlatches her legs from me, and I reluctantly let go of her ass to let her stand on her own feet.
She holds onto my arms as she finds her footing, and when she feels a little more secure, she lets go and runs her hands through the water.
“It’s kinda nice,” she says with something akin to a smile gracing her lips for the first time.
I nod as I consider how to clean her. Normally, we use sand from the bottom to scrub our skin, but if we do that on her injuries, it will hurt her.
Glancing at Bo, I ask him, “Is there any more material? We need a cloth.”
He smirks at me and holds up a piece, obviously already realizing what I hadn’t.
“Bo’s going to wipe you down, okay?” I tell her as I look down at her frail form. She looks at him and nods nervously as he steps up to her and lifts one of her arms, dipping the cloth in the water.
We both watch as he gently strokes her skin, lowering her arm under the water repeatedly to rinse the dirt away. The brown water that starts to surround her surprises me; she’s even dirtier than I thought. We have to move her a few times to cleaner areas as we take turns slowly cleaning her pale skin.
Once we’ve done all the visible spots, I hold the cloth out to her. “Lower yourself into the water and clean under the bindings.” She looks at me in surprise, but does as I ask, avoiding looking at us as she cleans her breasts and between her legs.
“We need to clean your hair,” I tell her. When she nods, I lower my body into the water and reach for her. “I’m going to hold you while Bo cleans it.” Lifting her up, I hold her body across my arms. “Tilt your head back.”
Bo moves in behind her as I hold her still. He gently massages his fingers against her head, and her eyes close as a tiny moan escapes her lips. Bo smirks at me as he continues the massage, helping her relax.
Eventually, he moves on to clean her hair, using sand from the bottom of the pond to scrub through it. Once that’s done, we move her around to the clean water as he rinses it all out. It takes a while, but soon her hair is no longer light brown but instead a beautiful blonde.
I gently place her on her feet, and her eyes pop open, as if surprised we’re done. I pull my own comb from my side pouch as I turn her to face Bo and start working it through her tangled hair as gently as I can.
Deciding it’s a good time to get some answers, I start to ask her some questions.
“Where are you from, Willow?”
“California.” I glance at Bo and he shakes his head; he’s never heard of it either.
“Where is that? In the North?”
“No, it’s on the West coast of America.”
