Page 21 of A Healer for the Ruthless Highlander
“Good. I daenae mind ye disobeyin’ me orders in private… I can always find a way to convince ye, anyway.”
His words hinted at something, something that quickened her pulse, but she refused to respond.
Yet she couldn’t help swallowing hard, feeling the heat rising to her neck and cheeks.
“I need to treat yer wound. Take off yer shirt,” she instructed.
“Is that an order?” he whispered, his one eye darkening further.
This man is challengin’ me out of pure lust…
“It is.”
“And what if I daenae obey?”
“Ye daenae ken what I’m capable of,” she warned.
“Neither do ye ken what I’m capable of.” Kenneth smirked.
He was clearly enjoying himself.
The hand still holding her wrist grew hotter by the second, making her squirm.
“Then we will have a confrontation, Laird MacReid. But I assure ye, I am nae the one who will lose if ye daenae obey.”
Keeping that smarmy, challenging smirk on his face, Kenneth began to undress from the waist up, unbuttoning his shirt with a disconcerting slowness.
Although she tried not to react, Leana grew hot. The man was as handsome as he was obnoxious, with a muscular build and lightly tanned skin from many days out in the sun.
His body was covered in scars in various stages of healing. Apart from the one on his shoulder, they all looked old, but she was curious to know the stories behind them.
“So, are ye goin’ to treat me, or are ye just goin’ to stand there and admire me?” Kenneth plopped back down into the chair.
He lowered his arms onto the armrests and tilted his head slightly, still watching her.
Leana felt her anger warring with desire.
“Och, stop. I’m just assessin’ the wound.”
“Uh-huh,” he tsked, shaking his head.
Leana was telling the truth—at least in part. She needed to know how serious the wound was, so she assessed it from all angles. Then, she carefully washed her hands and approached him again.
She stepped between his parted thighs and leaned down slightly, resting her weight on her right leg. Then, she placed her hand on his muscular chest for support.
“This will hurt,” she warned, aware that not many men could stand the pain of having an arrow removed without screaming.
“I told ye, I had worse,” Kenneth promised.
Leana grimaced, pursing her lips, but she nodded.
She gripped the arrowhead and took a deep breath before she pulled it out. Kenneth’s face contorted in pain, but it lasted only a moment. His hands flew to her waist when the momentum almost made her lose her balance, and she gasped slightly at the sensation.
The feel of his warm, large, muscular hands on her waist made her heart race even faster, but she had no time to waste, so she immediately pulled away and began to clean the wound.
As she worked, her pulse slowed until she felt she had some control over her emotions again.
“Ye brought me here to take care of yer braither?” she asked as she began suturing the wound with catgut.
