Page 44 of The Beast of the Highlands
Flynn smirked. “Then ye ought to give me a kiss to ease the pain.”
“Oh, should I?” She chuckled and leaned over, pressing her lips to his injured lip.
Pulling away, she let the cloth echo her mouth, and traced it across the cut. She did the same with his cheek, his brow, his nose, his jaw, his neck. And as he put up his arms, and she tugged his shirt free, she let her mouth trail a map of kisses across his chest and abdomen, adding several more to the bruised lines of his ribs, until his breaths shallowed.
“I knew ye’d make me feel better,” he murmured, as her lips moved lower, kissing beneath his navel.
She glanced up at him. “Where else are you hurt, my love?”
“All over,” he replied thickly: his eyes shining with desire.
She smiled and unfastened the clasp of his belted tartan, unfolding the fabric until he lay naked before her. Her lips sought out the bruises upon his sculpted thighs, while the cloth continued to trail after her kisses, though it was impossible to ignore his swollen manhood, standing to attention.
Leaning forward, she placed a slow kiss upon it, making him gasp. And though she felt an urge to do more, by taking him into her mouth, she recalled Desmond’s parting words. Flynn had suffered gravely this evening, and though pleasure might temporarily make him feel better, she worried for the patchwork of bruises across his ribs and chest.
“We shall continue this another time, my love. I would not have you struggling to breathe because of me.” Reluctantly, she covered his lower half with a blanket, and concentrated her attentions on the back of his head. A nasty cut had matted his thick, wavy hair, prompting her to check his eyes to ensure they were not glazed or listless.
I must prevent you from falling asleep.
The same book that had taught her to feel for the pulse in his neck was the same one that had taught her that, after an injury to the head, it was best to keep the patient awake. If they fell asleep, there was a high risk of great harm.
“Ye look worried, lass.” Flynn lifted a hand to her face, brushing aside a sweat-dampened tendril.
Autumn sighed. “Of course I am, my love. You are in pain, and I can only do so much to aid you.” She hesitated. “And… you must not fall asleep. It is imperative you stay awake for several hours.”
“I could think of a way to do that.” He grinned, gaining a stern look from her.
“As much as I would like to—and believe me, I have been eager to entangle myself with you again—that will do you no benefit.” She wagged a finger at him. “Perhaps, I might read to you, once I have bandaged your head?”
He pretended to pout. “Aye, if those are me healer’s orders.” A twinkle of mischief flickered in his eyes. “As long as I can have a kiss or two while ye’re readin’?”
“I can agree to that.” She chuckled and leaned forward once more, to kiss him full on the mouth.
As his arms wrapped around her, urging her closer, she knew it was not going to be easy to wrangle this unruly patient into behaving himself. Nor would it be easy to control herself, when she desperately wanted to throw aside his blanket and feel him inside her again.
Seeming to sense her weakening resolve, Flynn slipped his tongue into her mouth and pulled her flush against him, letting his hands wander down her spine and over the rise of her buttocks. And she, in turn, let her tongue explore his mouth, while struggling to ignore the hard length that pressed against her abdomen.
“I demand ye let me in!” an earsplitting screech exploded from outside Flynn’s bedchamber door. “He’s my betrothed and he’s been hurt! Ye’ll stand aside immediately!”
As though struck by lightning, Autumn flew backward, away from her beloved’s fond embrace. Frantically, she threw more blankets on top of him, and pulled them up to the bottom of his throat. He tried to keep hold of her hand, but she wrenched it away and turned to the basin of water, dipping the cloth in an attempt to steady her nerves.
A moment later, Keira barged into the room, with Natters running in after her. An expression of apology crossed his brow.
“What is the meanin’ of this?” Keira raged, storming over to rip the cloth out of Autumn’s hand.
Autumn bowed her head. “I was tending to His Lairdship, Lady Keira. As you can see, he is unwell.”
“Are ye a healer as well as a Baron’s daughter?” Keira spat.
Autumn lifted her gaze, narrowing her eyes. “As it happens, I am. I have extensive knowledge of anatomy, physicking, and remedies to aid most injuries.” She could not hold back the cold note in her voice. “So, if you would return that cloth to me, I will continue in my duties.”
Keira pulled the cloth further away. “Ye’ll leave this chamber right now, is what ye’ll do! It’s a disgrace!” She eyed Flynn, evidently noting his bare shoulders. “Ye’ve nay right to see His Lairdship in a state of undress, and I willnae allow it! Where’s Mary? She’s the healer in this castle.”
“Ye ken why she isnae here, Keira,” Flynn replied coolly. “I have Miss Montgomery here because I trust her, and she kens what to do. Ye’ll nae make demands or say what ye’ll allow or nae. This isnae yer castle.”
Keira turned so red she looked as though she might burst. “Ye’ll send this cretin away, this moment, or my da will hear of it!”
“And what will ye tell him, eh?” Flynn shot back. “I was attacked by English soldiers, and engaged the services of a lass who kens how to heal wounds? A lass who I’d be dyin’ without.”
