Vincent's voice startled her from her thoughts and she jerked around. "I've heated some water for you," he said, indicating a bucket and a basin on a crate which apparently served as a makeshift washstand. "I thought you might like to clean yourself," he added, pouring some water from the bucket into the basin.
Tired beyond words, Catherine just nodded her head. She rose from the chair and unthinkingly started unbuttoning her jacket and blouse. When she looked for Vincent to make sure he wouldn't be embarrassed if she undressed before him, he was already gone.
Vincent had also placed three threadbare towels on the crate. With a sigh, she spread one of them on the floor and finished undressing. Stepping onto the towel, she washed herself from head to toe as thoroughly as possible under the circumstances. At last she knelt down in front of the bucket to clean her hair with the remaining water. She dipped her head into the bucket and rubbed her hair vigorously, wishing she had at least a little shampoo. As she straightened and wound a towel around her soaking wet hair, she froze. The water in the bucket had turned a reddish brown reminiscent of...
Hastily Catherine removed the towel from her hair and examined it. Blood. This had to be blood. Oblivious to the fact that she was still naked, she felt at her head for any sign of injury, but she found nothing. Then it must be Vincent's, she decided, although she couldn't remember anything which might have indicated that he was hurt. Aside from the suppressed groan when he was climbing behind her, she mused.
Although the air in the chamber was pleasantly warm, a shiver ran across her wet skin and she looked around for her clothes. No matter how much she detested putting on her soiled things again, she had no choice.
By the time she was completely dressed, Catherine began to wonder where Vincent had gone. If he had just meant to give her privacy, surely he could sense that she was finished. She closed her eyes and listened into the silence, but there was no sound which might have betrayed his whereabouts. Only then did it occur to her to concentrate on the bond like she had done before, but this time that didn't help, either.
Tears formed in her eyes as she thought of how distant Vincent had appeared since he had found her just before the cave-in. She remembered how strangely he had behaved and how reluctant he had been to touch her, talk to her, or answer her questions. Suddenly a chill crept down her spine as an image of the bluish light in his hands came back to her. Pushing herself from the chair, she began pacing the room. What if it was all a trick? What if he wasn't even Vincent? What if... With a shudder she remembered Paracelsus' uncanny ability to assume the shapes and voices of other people. What if it was Paracelsus she was actually dealing with? But if so, what had he done to Vincent? Without thinking twice, Catherine grabbed a torch which was ensconced in the wall above her head, and left the chamber. She had to find him, whoever he was, in order to find Vincent, and if there was no bond to guide her, she would simply...
The sound of splashing water interrupted her thoughts and she froze. Lifting the torch a little higher, she surveyed the corridor before her. There was that soft, blue light again. This time it was slanting in from a side tunnel, and she extinguished the torch, leaving it behind as she walked on. As she rounded the corner, the corridor before her opened into a vast cavern which was partly flooded with water. The blue light drifted across the surface like mists above a lake. She raised her gaze and there he was. Vincent. The water lapped around his hips and his bare chest heaved as he met her stunned stare.
Catherine had never been more certain that it was really Vincent who stood before her. She couldn't help but think how beautiful he was. His hands were braced on his hips as he inclined his head and met her eyes with a questioning look. For a moment she thought she saw a flicker of amusement cross his features, but a second later his expression was serious and closed.
"You found me," he stated the obvious, and she relaxed with a smile.
"I guess I did," she replied. "I'm sorry I interrupted your bath."
"I'm finished," he said simply, starting to wade toward her, and her heart skipped a beat as she wondered if he would actually leave the water like that. Just to busy her eyes, Catherine looked around the cavern.
"Where does this light come from?" she inquired.
"I...caused it," Vincent answered from beside her. She trembled, unable to move. When she turned her head at last, he had grabbed a blanket and wound it around his hips. The sight of his strong, masculine body drove all thought from her mind and she forgot to question him any further.