Page 19 of Laird of Steel
She took a step forward.
“Stay back!” He thrust his hand out in warning.
She recoiled, her eyes widening.“Yestay back!” she replied in a squeak.
“You don’t want to cut yourself on broken glass,” he explained.
But it wasn’t the glass that alarmed her. It was his state of undress. Her mortified gaze flew wildly around the solar, like a trapped bird wondering where to land.
“My apologies for my appearance.” He quirked up the corner of his mouth. Four years ago, he’d been reduced to his undergarments in front of this very same lass. “But then I suppose ’tis naught you haven’t seen before.”
Her brow clouded with misunderstanding. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She planted her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. “Do ye think just because I’m a maidservant, I must be accustomed to consortin’ with half-naked men?”
“Consort-…” He blinked, astonished. That wasn’t what he thought at all. Besides, he doubted Merraid suffered much unwanted male attention, considering that wicked knee-to-the-groin defense of hers. “Nay, I only meant—”
“Because I assure ye I’m not.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m as pure as the day I was born, and—”
“I’m not saying you—”
“Anyone who claims otherwise—”
“Hold on, lass.”
“Is a lyin’ snake of a—”
“I’m saying no such thing.”
From the passageway outside came a voice. “Is everythin’ all right, sir?” It was Will. “I thought I heard somethin’ break.”
Merraid’s eyes grew wide.
Gellir cleared his throat. “’Tis fine, Will,” he called out. “I’ve got it.”
Swiftly—before Will could intrude and start rumors that might compromise her reputation—Gellir swept past Merraid and slammed the door closed.
He should have guessed the maidservant would not take his assertive actions lightly. Mistaking his intentions and believing he meant to trap her in the solar with him, she took a deep breath, preparing to bellow for Will.
He couldn’t let her do that.
Throwing caution aside, he lunged forward to clap a hand across her open mouth, holding the back of her head to keep her still and silent.
The minx instantly bit him.
Gasping in recoil, he pulled his tooth-marked hand away and stepped backward. Directly onto a shard of broken glass.
Intense pain shot up through his bare foot. He forgot all about his hand. He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth. Then he hobbled sideways until he could collapse into one of the chairs.
When he lifted his ankle upon his knee, he saw the shard. It protruded about an inch from his heel, like a bloody arrowhead.
The lass gasped when she saw it and grew instantly contrite. “Faith! Let me—”
“Stay back!” he shouted. If she interfered, someone was going to get hurt. He wasn’t sure which of them it would be. But he didn’t want to take chances.
“That looks nasty,” she said.
It did. It also hurt like the devil.
She wrung her hands. “I could—”
