Page 11 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
Seemingly, she had no reply to that, and searching the bottom of her calves, he carefully brushed away the needles that were imbedded there. When he was certain he had found them all, he then stood again.
“Turn around,” he said.
She did, but as she faced him, he skipped over the top half of her body. Calves were one thing, but touching her above the waist was crossing too much of a line. So, starting just below her waist, he brushed the rest of the needles away.
“Now, let me see yer arms.”
They were badly scraped, and needles were protruding everywhere.
“Good God, woman,” he sighed. “Ye truly are determined tae suffer.”
“What dae ye mean by… Ow,” she hissed as he picked needles from her forearm.
“Last night, ye were determined tae freeze tae death. Today, ye throw yersel’ intae a patch o’ thistles.”
“I didnae throw mesel’,” she murmured, wincing at each needle he removed.
With one arm now clear, he moved up the other, trying to be careful. He didn’t want her to feel any more pain than necessary, which was rather ridiculous when he thought about what he had been planning to do to her the day before.
But things had changed.
Partly, it had been himself who had determined not to kill her, for as much as he would never admit it to Alisdair, his advisor was right. He knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he killed an innocent lass. But it was not just he who had changed his mind. Elspeth Munro had made rather convincing points in her defense. And then, there had been her thoughts…
Oh, God, please. Please have mercy. Clearly, ye are pained, but ye dinnae have tae be cruel.
He would have to be made of stone to ignore a plea like that, and besides, she was right. He didn’t have to be cruel. Clearly, however, marrying him was not quite what she had in mind either. But he couldn’t let her go. Laird Gunn had to be punished one way or another.
With all the needles now removed, he took the brown bottle from her hands, tipped a little tonic into his palm and lightly dribbled it on her scratches.
“Ah,” she hissed.
“I ken. It’s nae pleasant, but it will ease the pain. Besides, it’s yer own fault fer having such delicate skin.”
She was about to retort, but then, her eyebrows lifted with surprise at his smile, for she realized he was teasing her.
Having rubbed it into her arms, Keane then noticed scratches on her neck. Dabbing the lotion on his fingers, he leaned in a little and rubbed it on her throat. But as his fingers dragged against her soft skin, he felt his stomach lurch a little. Their faces were now only inches apart, and looking down at her, their eyes locked.
For a long second, he couldn’t pull his gaze away. He seemed caught in the gray of her eyes, for they were the color of a winter storm, the raging winds pulling him in, and he, evidently helpless to fight against it.
As the tension crackled between them, Elspeth took a breath in.
I cannae deny he is striking, even if he is a bleedin’ brute.
“Brutes can still be handsome,” he murmured, replying to her thoughts.
She gasped then, and shook her head. “I didnae say ye were handsome.”
Keane grinned as he watched her face redden. “Ye didnae need tae,” he replied, now taking a step back. “There,” he said, looking her over. “And now, we have tae leave.”
CHAPTER FIVE
As they journeyed on, Elsie couldn’t help but wonder about their strange and tense exchange. Bad enough that they had had a moment that caused her to feel something she had never felt before, but the laird had nearly taken the thought right out of her head.
Had her expression conveyed what she had actually been thinking? Surely not, and yet, she must have given something away, for how could he possibly have known what was going on in her mind?
Once more, as she sat on the back of his horse, the rope was securely tied around her waist.
“Now, more than ever, I think ye need this,” he had said, clearly referring to her attempted escape.
