Page 10 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
The cut was jagged and painful. There was a steady flow of blood, and she watched it with something akin to fascination. She’d never injured herself like this before.
“Do I have yer permission to examine the wound now?”
She glanced up at him. “Aye, but ye only touch me leg.”
“Dinnae ye worry, lass, I wouldnae wish to touch anythin’ else,” he said blithely.
She frowned at him, uncertain how she felt about that admission. His long fingers probed the wound bed, and she hissed.
“Stay here,” he said firmly and stood up, clicking his tongue.
The horse came up to him immediately, and he went to the saddle bag. After much searching and muttering under his breath, his hand emerged, holding something she was not expecting. It was a thin, green ribbon that didn’t look like it belonged in a laird’s pack.
He returned, giving her a stern look as she raised her eyebrows.
“And why do ye have a ribbon in yer saddle bag, may I ask?” she asked.
Huffing irritably, he pulled his léine from his kilt, showing her a brief flash of toned, golden flesh. Unsheathing his knife, he cut two strips of fabric from his léine, bundling one into a ball and using it to wipe away the blood from her wound.
“Buck isnae me horse. He belongs to me sister Freya. She keeps a lot of silly things with her when she travels.”
“And here I was thinkin’ ye’d already barged in on another weddin’ this mornin’. Ye could be collectin’ brides all over the Highlands.”
“One is quite enough,” he said gruffly.
She watched him clean the wound as best as he could and wrap her knee tightly with the strip of cloth from his léine. Her breaths came faster as his fingers moved over her flesh. Hisblue eyes were narrowed in concentration, and his tongue kept darting out to lick his lips as he calculated what length of fabric he would need to bandage the wound.
Emily had never had another man’s hands on her like that before. She had received hugs from her brother and father, but never anything like this—and they were entirely alone.
The wind whistled around them across the marshes, and she breathed in the salty scent of the sea. He could do anything he wanted with her here, yet she felt safe.
After he was satisfied with his work, he tied the ribbon around her knee to secure the ends of the bandage, and she could not help smiling.
“Is ribbon what ye use on the battlefield with yer men?” she asked in amusement. “It looks ever so pretty.”
His gaze flicked up to hers, and his eyes were brooding and dark again.
“Has that mouth of yers ever got ye into trouble?” he asked darkly.
She shivered. “Many times,M’Laird.”
“Careful, lass.”
That was all he said, but the two words had a surprising effect on her. She fell silent. Something in her wanted to please him—for him to be pleased withher. She pursed her lips in confusion.
What’s the matter with me? Now that me knee is bandaged, I should run as fast as I can away from this man.
She stayed still, watching as he stepped back, surveying the injury and nodding in satisfaction.
“Ye should be more careful the next time ye jump off a runnin’ horse.”
“I wouldnae have been on a horse at all if it werenae for ye.”
“Wherever ye go, I’ll always catch ye.”
The sky behind him was a brooding black mass of clouds now. The wind picked up, blowing through his long dark hair and ruffling the fur on his shoulders as though he were a wolf. He looked like the king of his lands, and Emily was mesmerized by him.
“Have ye eaten?”
