Page 78 of The Fierce Highlander

“Prisoners? We need to speak with them.” Leora went to stand and once again his hand prevented her from doing so.

“I need to speak with them. You need to remain here and let Novice Angelica finish tending your wound.”

“It just needs a thick coating of honey, and you can do that,” Leora said and stretched her arm out to reach for a small crock not far from her on the table.

Noble grabbed it.

“Hurry. I am eager to hear what they have to say,” Leora said impatiently.

“You have been wounded and to—”

“A minor wound to the backside does not require rest. Besides, it is better for me to stand with the wound so new, giving it a chance to heal. Now hurry and be done with it.”

“Are you dictating to me, wife?”

She gasped lightly as she smiled. “I am hurt, husband, that you would even think that of me.” She gasped again, though this time the gasp was when his hands hit the table on either side of her head as he dropped down over her, planting his cheek next to hers.

“My heart still hammers in my chest as it did when I first saw all that blood on you, reminding me how I could have lost you today,” he whispered softly, though with a twinge of harshness. “And seeing that a mark was left on you in a place that is for my eyes only infuriates me.”

Unable to do anything else, she pressed her cheek against his. “You stopped the attack quickly and prevented it from being far worse than it could have been, preventing the warriors from reaching me, which I had no doubt you would. My minor wound should leave no scar, but by chance that it does, then it should be a reminder of the day you saved my life.” She kissed his cheek. “You are my champion, Noble, and always will be, and I love you more today than I did yesterday, and tomorrow I will love you even more.”

A rap at the door had Noble yelling, “Go away!”

“The one captive is anxious to talk with you,” Finley called out.

“We must not delay,” Leora urged.

“I will be there shortly,” Noble called out, standing.

The door creaked open.

“Open that door, Lady Elizabeth, and I will see you locked in your cottage until you depart, which will be tomorrow,” Noble threatened.

“It is not proper for you to tend your wife’s wound in such a delicate spot,” Lady Elizabeth said, keeping her voice tempered so Noble could hear but not those outside.

“And why not when I touch her there often?” Noble called out.

“Savage!” Lady Elizabeth gasped and shut the door.

Leora went to get up. “That wasn’t very—”

His hand shoved her down gently. “Stay put until I paste your wound with this honey.”

“That was not nice. You should not have said that to her,” Leora scolded.

“Nice is not a word one would use in describing a Gallowglass warrior. Besides, what is wrong with speaking the truth? I quite enjoy touching you there and often.”

Leora continued to scold. “You were being ill-mannered.”

He chuckled. “What do you expect from a savage?”

Noble wiped his hand clean of the honey and quickly cleaned the blood off from where it ran down his wife’s leg before easing her garments over her backside, then slipping his arm beneath her waist to help her to her feet.

Chief came alert with a stretch, having fallen asleep under the table while the two had talked.

“This savage loves you very much, wife,” he said and kissed her with more enthusiasm than planned, leaving them both a bit breathless.

“We need to go before we don’t,” she whispered and took his hand to tug him to the door, the passion that surged through her begging her not to leave.

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