Page 25 of A Plaid Case of Loving Ye
She stared at the door, not really seeing it.
Her feet—her mind—herhearthad brought her here because Ramsay needed clarity too. More so than her.
Aye, that was it.Thatwas what she needed.
She’d seen his expression today after she’d told him his name, told him he was a Hunter. He remembered his family, but ‘twas not enough. There was so much he needed to remember. He neededclarity.
And she could help him.
She knocked briskly on the door and strode inside.
Ramsay was standing on the balcony, his arms braced, looking out over the loch. He must’ve heard her knock, because he was turning as she entered. In that moment, his expression lit in pleasure before he masked it, and her heart lurched at the realization he was so uncertain he needed to pretend neutrality.
“Ramsay, have ye remembered aught else?”
He folded his arms across his chest, studying her as she approached, as if trying to figure her out. “Nay,” he finally admitted. “My head hurts less now and I can remember my family and my home…but no’ why I was attacked.”
She halted beside him, close enough she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. She was too close, she should move back…but shewantedto move closer. She wanted to taste him again, to fill her nostrils with his scent.
She wanted to love him.
“Does that matter?” she blurted, not willing to consider that fact. “Why ye were attacked?”
Slowly, he nodded, studying her. “Aye. If I’m going to be traveling with the bairn—from here to McIlvain land—I need to ken if he’ll be safe. I need to ken who attacked me, and why.”
In her excitement, she placed her hand on his forearm, felt his muscles tighten, felt his warmth. “I had an idea,” she breathed, enthusiasm making her heart thump loudly. “I think I can help ye.”
His brow rose. “Ye ken more of my history?”
“Just yer name and the fact ye’re a Hunter.” She supposed she deserved his doubts, seeing as how she wasn’t being completely honest with him. “Come with me.”
When she tugged him toward the chair, just inside the doors to the chamber and beside the bed he’d claimed as his own, he went willingly.
“Sit down. Good,” she praised when he did as she directed. “Now, ye ken I’m a healer, and I want what’s best for ye.”
“Do ye?”
“Aye, of course.” How could he doubt that? “Now, I ken head wounds can be tricky, and we dinnae want to force aught, for fear of more damage. Learning yer name opened a window into yer memories and I think it willnae take much more of a nudge for them all to spill through. Ye just need…to relax.”
His lips twitched, and he placed his palms on his knees. Hisbareknees. “Relax? Is that why I’m sitting?”
“Ye’re sitting so I can reach ye better.” Were her cheeks as flaming as she felt? Still, she wasn’t going to back down from this. “I think ye need to clear yer mind, and that clarity will allow the rest of yer memories to return.”
“Clarity, eh? And what, exactly, did ye have in mind?”
With her gaze on his chin—any higher and she doubted she could go through with this—she sank to her knees in front of him. The way he sucked in a breath told him he understood.
Keeping her tone as clinical as possible, she placed her hands on his knees as well, nudging his hands out of the way. “After an orgasm, a mind is empty. Would ye agree?”
“Aye.” His voice sounded hoarse. “Nicola, anyone might approach. Yer reputation—”
Her palms slid up his thighs, pushing his kilt aside as she did so. “They’re all at Compline. We’re alone, and I think this will work. As yer healer, I want ye to try this treatment.”
He pinned her with his gaze. “Whattreatment, Nicola?” he challenged, daring her to explain.
When her tongue darted across her lower lips, his gaze followed, and his own lips parted as his nostrils flared on an inhale. Beneath his kilt, she saw his cock stirring.
He wanted this.
