“I’d rather kiss you.”
Foregoing her gentle reproach, she balled her fist and gave him a thump on the chest. To her surprise, he laughed but relinquished his hold on her.
She scrambled off his chest and smoothed her wrinkled clothing and disheveled hair. She probably looked like she’d been dunked in the loch and then dragged behind a horse.
Her gaze kept creeping to his broad, naked chest. Not that a man’s chest was a mystery to her. Nor was the rest of the male anatomy. She’d seen more than her fair share of naked males thanks to her skill at healing. But this man took her breath away. He was … magnificent.
Her eyes ate him, and she wasn’t being entirely discreet about it. She hoped that his fever and pain kept him from noticing her avid attention.
“I must look at your wound,” she said, damning the husky catch to her voice.
He glanced down and then slowly rolled onto his good side so that his injury was outward.
“I must thank you, Keeley. I don’t remember much about the day I was injured, only that I knew I would die if I didn’t seek aid immediately. When I opened my eyes and saw you, I knew that God had sent me an angel.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she said lightly. “Angel I’m not. I’m merely an ordinary woman who is skilled in the healing arts. ’Tis nothing more than knowledge gleaned from other women who’ve come before me.”
“Nay,” he denied. He reached up and caught her hand when she moved closer, bringing her fingers to his lips.
Tingles shot up her arm and her chest tightened in pleasure. It was hard not to smile at the handsome warrior who wielded pretty words as surely as he did a broadsword.
She caught his wrist and gently pushed until his arm was over his head at an angle. Then she leaned in to survey his newly stitched wound. It pleased her to see the redness had abated and that it no longer looked quite so raw and angry.
“What’s the verdict? Will I live?” he asked in amusement.
“Aye, warrior. You’ll live a long, healthy life. You’re fit, which will aid you in a complete recovery.”
“Glad to hear it.”
When she allowed him to lay his arm back down, he rubbed at his belly and grimaced.
“Hungry?”
“Aye. Fair to starving.”
“ ’Tis a good sign,” she said with an approving nod. “I’ll ask for a trencher to be brought up.”
“You don’t leave.”
She raised her brow because it wasn’t a request. The command in his voice was evident.
“Please.”
At the lowering of his voice, she all but melted again.
“Aye. I’ll stay.”
He gifted her with a smile even as his eyelids lowered. He blinked, fighting the urge to sleep. She laid her hand over his forehead. “Rest, warrior. I’ll have your food to you in a moment.”
She rose from the bed and smoothed her skirts, wishing she didn’t look so bloody awful. She’d made it to the door and was about to open it when it swung open. She scowled at the intruder, letting him know his bursting in wasn’t welcome.
Caelen scowled back, letting her know he wasn’t impressed with her ire.
“How is he?” he demanded.
She swept her hand toward the bed. “See for yourself. He was awake a few moments ago. He’s hungry.”
Caelen strode past her and she made a face at his back. When she turned around to exit, she nearly ran into Ewan.
“I don’t suppose you’ll forget you saw that,” she muttered.
Ewan’s lips twisted in amusement. “Saw what?”
Keeley nodded her approval and then walked past, not really knowing where she was going, but she could definitely use some air. She could still feel Alaric’s mouth on hers. She could still taste him.
Chapter 10
Alaric kept his gaze fastened on the lass until she disappeared from view. Then he shot his brothers the full force of his glare.
“Is there something you wanted?” he asked irritably.
“Aye,” Caelen drawled. “For instance, to know whether you were still alive or not.”
“As you can see I am. Isn’t there something else you could be doing?”
Ewan shook his head and sat on the stool next to the bed. “Forget your fascination with the lass for a moment. There are things we must know. Starting with who did this to you.”
Alaric sighed. His side ached. His head felt as though he’d spent the last week drowning in a tankard of ale, and he was hungry and grouchy to boot. The last thing he wanted was an inquisition.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “They ambushed us in the middle of the night. It was a slaughter. We were outnumbered at least six to one. Maybe more. I barely managed escape and don’t remember much beyond waking up feeling as though I was being burned by the fires of hell but with an angel soothing the pain.”
Caelen snorted. “More like a she-demon likely mated to Satan himself.”
“She saved my life,” Alaric said.
“Aye, she did,” Ewan agreed. “She has a fine hand at healing. I plan for her to attend Mairin’s birth.”
Unexpected pleasure—and excitement—coursed through Alaric’s blood, stirring desire he hadn’t felt for a woman in a long time. He had plenty of dalliances. A quick tup now and then was good for a man’s disposition. But Keeley fired his senses like no other. He was on edge, his skin way too tight, all because she wasn’t near.
“She agreed to come here and be our healer?” Alaric asked casually.
Caelen chuckled. “Not exactly.”
Alaric narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means we didn’t give her a choice in the matter. You needed her skills and so will Mairin. So I brought her here,” Ewan said with a shrug.
Typical Ewan. He made a decision and acted on it. Though he liked the idea of Keeley being near, it didn’t sit well that his brothers had manhandled her. It would explain her sharpness with him.
“Forget the woman,” Caelen said darkly. “Unless you forget, you have an agreement to wed McDonald’s daughter.”
Nay, he hadn’t forgotten. He may have pushed it from his mind temporarily, but he hadn’t forgotten why he’d embarked on the journey where he’d lost several of his best men.
“I received a missive from Gregor a few hours ago,” Ewan said. “He was concerned that you hadn’t arrived yet. I held off sending him word of what transpired until I knew myself what exactly had happened.”