After a long while the girl's sobbing subsided, and her breathing became slow,...

After a long while the girl's sobbing subsided, and her breathing became slow, measured. In her sleep she scooted her rump toward him, seeking warmth.
He rolled onto his side and curled an arm around her. Slipping his hand under the shirt she wore, he pressed his palm against her feverish midriff and traced the ladder of her ribs with his fingertips. She was as soft as a pelt of ermine. He could feel the rhythmic thump of her heart, the warmth of her just beneath her skin. He closed his eyes. Her voice rang in his mind, as clear as a morning bird's. When the sun rose, she would have even more reason to hate him. If she didn't drink soon, she would die. He couldn't allow her to go another day without water. Hunter took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Where was his anger? His hatred? He wasn't sure when it had happened or how, but the small woman beside him was no longer his captive; he had become hers.