He waved his hand.
“I-I c-can’t ever re-pay you.”
He raked a gaze over her. “Madam, you have nothing I want, nor anything I need.”
She appeared to flinch and Jasper wasn’t certain if it was his bluntly spoken words or the cold ravaging her frame.
Something stirred inside him, something he’d thought dead—emotion. Guilt dug at him. Jasper cursed. He didn’t want to feel guilt for his treatment of the lady. He didn’t want to feel anything where she was concerned. Hell, he didn’t want to feel anything where anyone was concerned.
Jasper shoved himself to his feet. “Here, now,” he said gruffly, and held a hand out to her. She eyed it a moment, and then placed her fingers in his.
A charge like the kind one received when walking in stockinged feet across a carpet, surged through him. He dropped her hand as if burned.
“Where is your chaperone?”
She shook her head. “I-I’ve not b-brought one.”
With another curse, he scanned the area.
“D-do y-you a-always c-curse in fr-front of l-ladies?” she shot at him.
Ah, the ice princess was back. He found he preferred the snapping, spitting catlike vixen to the nearly drowned, destitute creature he’d pulled from the river. “Ladies do not run around London without a chaperone.”
Her brown brows knitted into a single line. Her eyes slid away from his.
Jasper followed her glance to a point beyond his shoulder. “Bloody h—“ He snapped his lips closed, remembering her earlier charge. A crowd of observers stood at the central portion of the river eyeing the cracked ice, and Jasper, and…and…
The Ice Princess.
He stood, and staring down at her was struck by how frail and helpless she appeared under that icy veneer. Something shifted inside him again. Jasper shook his head, dispelling all hint of emotion. He was now a man who operated under stiff logic and reason.
Fact. The woman had nearly drowned.
Fact. He might be a heartless bastard but he couldn’t have let her drown.
Fact. She was a shivering mass of slim, graceful limbs.
Fact. He needed to return her home immediately or she’d perish from cold.
His jaw tightened. And he’d not caused a great scene, and risked his own miserable life to save her from the frigid waters only to die of a chill.
Jasper scooped her up.
“Wh-what a-are y-you d-doing?” she squeaked. It didn’t fail to escape his notice the manner in which she buried herself close against him, like a kitten seeking warmth from its master.
He stiffened at the feel of her nubile body pressed to his. In spite of the cold, her skin against his, heated him.
Jasper tamped down the irrational yearnings. He’d been without a woman for more than three years. His body’s reaction was a physical one, nothing more than that.
“I am returning you home,” he forced out between tight lips.
The sooner he could be rid of the creature the better off he’d be.
~3~
Katherine’s body ached as though jagged icicles had pierced every portion of her skin. A chill filled her inside and out until she wondered if she’d freeze from the cold. Her disjointed thoughts still murky from her near drowning dulled logical thinking.
He’d saved her. This great, hulking, frowning bear of a man. The same stranger who’d nearly bowled her over and raked his gaze condescendingly over her person, had risked his life to pluck her from the frozen river.
His flinty glare, the dark expression on the harsh planes of his face, suggested he regretted the decision.
“I am returning you home,” he said again. His voice emerged a kind of growl that would give most small children night terrors.
Katherine burrowed deeper into the damp folds of his too-large, black jacket.
For a moment she wondered at what life had done to turn him into such a miserable, odious creature. Because certainly no person could be so deliberately callous…so deliberately unfeeling, without reason.
“Has the ice dulled your wits,” he snapped.
She gave her head a clearing shake. “I-I c-can’t l-leave.”
There was the matter of her sister, Anne. Katherine’s eyes slid closed as she imagined their mother’s fury. They would be fortunate to live to see the eve of Christmas. But then, considering her fall into the Thames, she was fortunate to have lived even the day.
He gathered her close against his oaken-hard chest. For a moment the events of the day melted away; her and Anne’s clandestine efforts to find a silly pendant, the chilling terror of the ice cracking, her submersion under the frozen water…the certainty of death. This stranger’s arms filled her with a soothing sense of calm she’d never before known from another person. He strode toward the pavement, handling her as easily as if she were a porcelain doll. Katherine closed her eyes a moment and selfishly stole of that warmth provided by his body.