Page 30 of Healing the Highland Sinner
“Of course. I just dinnae want ye tae feel bad fer daein’ what was necessary.”
She nodded. “I’ll… I’ll work on it.”
“Good,” he said. “Now, let’s work on yer form.”
She laughed softly and nodded again. “All right.”
He put his hands on her hips and felt her stiffen and draw in a sharp breath. He cleared his throat and tried to quell his arousal, which was stirring. Standing close behind her, he relished the softness of her body but tried to keep from dwelling on it. Heput the dagger in her hand and positioned her arms the way he wanted.
“Ye want tae keep yer arms just like this,” he said.
She tensed and positioned her arms just as he was showing her. He wrapped his hand around hers, showing her how he wanted her to hold the blade and couldn’t help but notice the warmth and suppleness of her skin. Their faces were mere inches apart and it was all he could do to keep himself from leaning forward and kissing her. He wanted to. Desperately. But he forced himself to pull back, reluctantly removing his hands from her hips, then circled around in front of her.
He cleared his throat again, their gazes lingering on each other for a moment. “All right,” he said, his voice thick. “Now, when ye move tae attack, ye want tae keep yer grip on the hilt of the dagger just like that. And then ye move, strike, and pull back.”
He pulled out his own dagger and demonstrated for her. “All right. Yer turn.”
She moved through the forms as he’d instructed her, but she was still a little stiff. Too unnatural in her movements. And definitely far too slow. In a real fight, she would have been gutted a dozen times and left for dead. Ellair stepped behind her again, positioning her body in the correct form, keenly aware of the heat radiating from her skin, and the slight tremble in her hands as he guided her to the correct stance.
Clearing his throat and doing his best to tamp down the flames of his arousal and focus on the task at hand, he tried to teach Rosalind how to save her own life. The mere thought of anything happening to her sent a flash of pain through his heart that wasunbearable. And he knew in that moment, he would protect her at all costs. Even if it meant paying the ultimate price.
Determined to see her safe, he moved her through the forms again, drilling the correct stances into her again and again. A thin sheen of sweat slicked her forehead, and her breath was ragged and thin. She was tired. But he felt the need to continue until her forms were perfect.
He looked at Rosalind’s flushed cheeks and saw the weariness in his eyes.
“Get some rest. We can continue this later.”
They laid down on the straw-covered pallets in the corner, but sleep did not come for Ellair. Instead, he laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, his memory flush with the feel of her body, the heat of her skin, and those soft, pillowy lips he longed to kiss.
CHAPTER 13
Morning dawned and after carefully checking the streets around the bolt hole and seeing they were clear, they headed back to the compound. Rosalind was exhausted and wrung out, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and some actual sleep. Ciar walked beside her, his hand on the hilt of his blade while Ellair walked ahead of them, ensuring their path remained clear. Ewan hadn’t been able to find them and had likely pulled his men home, but Rosalind didn’t want any surprises.
“Are ye all right?” Ciar asked.
“Aye. Just tired.”
Sleep hadn’t come to her the night before. Instead, she lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling remembering the warmth of Ellair’s breath on her cheek, the tautness of his body pressed to hers, and the feeling of his hands, so large and rough, guiding her through the motions. The heat in her belly had been so intense, she thought it might consume her whole. It still burned.She’d wanted, more than anything, than to fall into his arms, kiss him, and let him ravish her.
Thank God Ciar had been there. If he hadn’t, God knew what she would have let herself do. She knew she shouldn’t be having those sorts of feelings for Ellair. He was a hired blade. Nothing more. And once she had gotten through this temporary crisis, she would have no more need for him and would send him on his way. He was never meant to be a permanent part of her crew. He was simply there to lend some muscle and skill with a blade. A tool for her to use. The thought of sending him away, though, pained her and that troubled her deeply.
Rosalind had always been good at calculating risk and probabilities. Ciar called it her supernatural power, because she had always been able to sense ambushes before they happened and keep herself—and her crew—out of trouble. She just had a sixth sense about things and people. But one thing she’d not accounted for was Ellair. She had never expected to be attracted to the man as much as she was, never anticipated enjoying his lessons the way she did, or the warmth that exploded within her whenever he was around. He clouded her mind and robbed her of her senses.
Ellair was a skilled swordsman and a good teacher. Because of their lessons, she felt more confident with a blade in her hand than she ever had. She still had a long way to go before she was fully competent, but she felt like she was getting there.
The one thing he could not teach her though, was how to deal with the feelings that came with taking a life. Killing Ewan’s manin that warehouse had shaken her. More than she had admitted to Ellair. She felt a powerful wave of guilt swallowing her up even thinking about it then. Rationally, she knew it had been necessary, that it hadn’t been her fault since they had been set up. She’d done, as Ellair had said, what was necessary.
It had been him or her and she’d chosen herself, but even though Ellair said there was no guilt or dishonor in it, she couldn’t help but remember the way the man had looked as the life drained from his body. Couldn’t help but recall how dark and thick the pool of blood around him had been. She even remembered the smell of all that blood in excruciating detail. It was the first life she’d ever taken and God willing, it would be the last.
But she knew there were no guarantees in the life she led. Frankly, Rosalind was surprised she had made it as long as she had without being forced into taking a life as she had. It was why she had hired good and skilled men… so she wouldn’t have to do it. But now that seal had been broken and her hands were no longer clean.
Ciar put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned her face up to him. His smile was soft and gentle, and he peered into her eyes as if he knew what she was thinking. He likely did. The man had an infuriating way of being able to read her like a book.
“Ye had nay choice,” he said. “If ye hadnae acted, he would have, lass.”
A wan smile touched her lips. “And how dae ye ken what I’m thinkin’?”
“I can see the guilt in yer eyes. Ye dinnae hide yer emotions near as well as ye think ye dae.”
