“Is that damned evil liquid made out of stinging nettles?” he muttered.
Her eyes registered surprise. “Nae. ‘Tis a soothing tincture made from willow bark. It’s meant to calm the pain, not make it worse.” She bent over his hand, binding it well with the strip ofcloth. “This will help ye to keep your hands on the oars. There’ll be pain, of course, but it won’t grow worse wi’ yer effort.”
She was taking his other hand in hers when the door opened and Aileen walked in.
At once Finn scrambled to her feet, gesturing to Maxwell. “If ye dinnae mind, ye can tend to this one, while I get back to helping Ewen.” Without waiting for Aileen to agree, she swiveled and hastened out the door.
“Oh?” Aileen glanced at Maxwell’s unbandaged hand, one eyebrow shooting up. “Ye’ve done yerself some damage, MacNeil. Did ye nae think to mind yerself before things took such a bad turn.” She surveyed the ruined palm. “And d’ye intend tae keep at yer oar with this?”
“Dinnae make a fuss of it, lass. I’ve dealt with much worse many a time and I’ve got the scars to prove it. Never fear, I’ll keep at the oar.”
She dabbed the tincture on his palm, ignoring his sharply indrawn breath. Her touch was far gentler than Finn’s no-nonsense tending.
“This will have ye better in nay time.” She skillfully wrapped the bandage around his hand, tying it off with a tidy knot.
He kept his eyes on her bent head, wishing he could run his fingers through her shining hair. He glanced at his bandagedhands. Mayhap another time. He was close enough to register her musky, rose-scented aroma, and her nearness fired his blood.
He wanted this woman more than he’d ever wanted any lass. Last night had been a dream. He’d held her tenderly, her softness spooned against him throughout the night, but now her nearness was making him wild. All he wanted was to feel her against him, to hold her with a fierceness he’d restrained last night, and to consume her with his kiss.
Glancing up, she caught him looking at her. Her sloping cat’s eyes flickered as she met his ice-blue gaze. “What is it, Maxwell,” she said in that husky voice.
“’Tis ye, lass. Being so close tae ye unsettles me.”
“What dae ye mean?”
“I mean I want tae kiss ye. I want me arms around ye and I want tae feel the silk and satin of yer skin.”
She laughed, although her cheeks were flushing pink at his words. “Ye’re in nae shape tae be touching anything but a splintery oaken oar, MacNeil.”
“Mayhap I dinnae need me hands fer yer lips. Mine are free of injury and quite ready fer the job of kissing ye.”
“A job? Kissing me is a job?”
Now it was his turn to laugh, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. He traced his lower lip with his tongue. “Well, Captain, is kissing ye a job ye wish me tae carry out? I’m ready tae put myself tae the task.”
Without further thought he stood and swooped her into his arms, holding her in a strong embrace. She melted against him, her lips opening to his. With a moan, he lowered his head and took her with his passion.
Her arms curled around him, her hands rifling in his hair, pulling it free of the leather strand at his nape. She whispered into his mouth. “I want ye too, Maxwell. But we cannae…”
He groaned and loosened his grasp, releasing her and they moved a little apart. Her eyes were like dark emeralds shining into his, her lips red from the kiss, her cheeks flushing pink.
He gathered his breath. “Ye’re mine, Aileen MacAlpin. Dinnae forget that when we are in Dunrobin Castle and yer Laird Sutherland tries tae claim ye as his.”
With a toss of her hair, she rounded on him, pushing the silky, golden, coppery strands from her brow. “I’m nay man’s, Maxwell.”
He shook his head, a smile quirking his lips. “Nay, lass. Yer heart and soul belong tae me. Ye may nae ken it yet, but I have been prepared tae wait fer ye tae come tae that understanding since the first moment I saw ye in that tavern.”
She sighed loudly. “I’m nae wishing to ever reach Dunrobin. But I’ve crew tae care about and Finn and Séamus tae keep from harm. If I had me way, I’d sail me ship far beyond Dunrobin. But Sutherland would never see the end of it. He’d pursue me tae the ends of the earth if I tried tae flee.”
“Daes the man love ye then?”
She gave a harsh laugh. “Nay. Sutherland loves naebody but himself. But he’ll never let go of what he sees as his. With me faither his prisoner all these years, threatened with death, Sutherland’s been able tae take me as his possession.” Her breath caught in a sob and she turned away. “I cannae say more of this now.”
He nodded as she stepped away. “Dinnae leave me arms empty fer long, Aileen.” He turned and strode out of the cabin, making his way back to the oars, deep in thought. He’d suspected Sutherland had a hold on Aileen that she found too painful to discuss. Mayhap before they reached the castle there’s be another opportunity for them to talk further.
After Maxwell slipped back to his place at the oar, setting his rhythm with the other oarsmen the ship moved from its calm mooring into the open sea once again. The sun had disappeared behind a wall of grey clouds and the white-caps were turning to galloping horses on the sea. Along with the weather, he sensed a change in the sailors’ mood.
Where there had been jovial camaraderie, a bleak shadow had fallen over the crew. Their jaws were set and they rowed on, in what looked to him like quiet despair.