Page 33 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
Callum exhaled as something cold was smoothed over the wound, and he glanced down, frowning as Lydia secured a soft piece of linen over the site of it.
“That feels better,” he said softly, and it did. The heat of it was lessened.
“It is a little salve I have from my mother. Always good forscratchesand the like.”
“What’s in it?”
“Comfrey, yarrow, and a little oil. My grandmother’s recipe.”
Callum nodded vaguely, trying his best to breathe shallowly so as not to inhale great lungfuls of that scent he loved so much.
His blood rushed south as Lydia’s cool fingers wrapped the bandage around his arm, and he shivered as she secured it in place. He glanced at her curiously, watching the stern look of concentration on her face.
He shifted, turning to her.
“Ye never did say if I have permission to touch ye again,” he murmured.
Her fingers stilled, and for a brief second, he thought she might turn and allow him to kiss her again.
“I think you will find thatIam the one touchingyou. In a marriage ofconvenience,you hardly need to worry about touching me again, do you?”
Then she rose, cheeks heating, looking down at him with sadness in her eyes.
“I think it’s best to remain as we are, don’t you?”
He grunted, picking up his shirt and throwing it on. When he pulled it over his head, she was watching him.
“Are you really not going to tell me what happened?”
Callum hesitated, fighting the urge to reveal it all.
I could tell her now and be done with it. But if she knows the truth, would she leave?
“Is that necessary for a marriage of convenience?”
Her eyes narrowed as she fussed with the bandages, looking away.
“If my life is at stake, I think I deserve to know,” she said in a small voice.
“No one will hurt ye.”
The words rang through the air like a vow, and Callum had never meant anything so fervently.
No one will harm this woman while I have breath left in my lungs.
She didn’t meet his eyes, the soft glow of the candle glancing off the bowl of water as she washed the cloths, her slender fingers bunching and flexing with the motion.
Callum tucked in his shirt, feeling oddly bereft without her beside him.
“Thank ye for tendin’ to me and helpin’ me with me wound. I appreciate it. Ye should head to bed.”
“Am I safe?” she asked as he turned away, but there was no fear in her voice, more like curiosity.
“Ye are, but if ye dinnae wish to stay here, we can cancel the weddin’.”
“No!” The vehemence of that statement surprised him. “It will take place as soon as my mother and brother arrive.”
“Ye never mention yer faither.”
