Page 5 of Beguiled By the Highlander
His impossibly long black lashes flickered, and for a reason she could not fathom, she held her breath, as he slowly did as she had bid him.
His eyes were a captivating swirl of blue and gray. Like a stormy sea.
How apt.
She scarcely had the wits to chide herself for such a fanciful notion.
Instead, she smiled at him. A comforting smile, to assure him all was well.
At least, she hoped it conveyed comfort, and not a scandalous lack of sense due to his enchanting eyes.
“Where am I?” His voice was hoarse. There was no reason for the sound of it to send delicious shivers along her arms.
“Sgur Castle. We found ye on the beach. Tis lucky ye’re alive.”
Confusion clouded his eyes. “The beach?” he echoed, as though he had never encountered the word before.
“Aye. We can only guess ye went overboard during the storm. Although we found no shipwreck,” she added hastily, but now the thought had occurred to her, they would need to search at daybreak for any wreckage.
He gazed at her as though he was unaware of anyone else in the chamber. It was a novel sensation and undeniably thrilling. “Who are ye?” he whispered.
“Isolde MacDonald.” She refrained from giving him her full title. Besides, she’d already told him he was at Sgur Castle. “What is yer name?”
His lips parted, and then an expression of disbelief, no, horror rippled over his face, and he struggled to sit up, the blanket falling to his lap, revealing his breathtaking chest. By sheer force of will, she refused to look and instead gave him an encouraging smile.
“I can’t... I cannot recall.” The words sounded as though he’d ripped them from the bowels of hell itself.
Her smile slipped. “What?”
He sucked in a jagged breath, his fierce gaze never leaving hers. “I don’t know who I am.”
Chapter Two
His stomach churnedand chest tightened, as though an iron band wrapped around him, crushing his ribs. How could he not know who he was?
A wild rushing filled his head, an unwelcome counterpoint to the incessant throbbing of his brain. God help him. What had happened?
“Try not to worry.” The beautiful, flame-haired lass who kneeled by his side patted his shoulder before snatching her hand back as though his skin burned. “Ye cracked yer head. That’s why ye don’t remember. But ye’ll be right as rain after a good sleep.”
He hoped to God she was right. And yet, as he gazed into her enchanting green eyes, the panic that consumed him ebbed. Of course she was right. Whatever had happened, this was a temporary loss of memory.
“Thank ye.” Christ, was that raspy sound really his voice? Did he always sound as though his throat was flayed raw, or was it a consequence of his accident?
“Well, ye’re more than welcome. ’Tis fortunate we found ye when we did. I doubt ye would’ve survived until daybreak.”
Bemused, he cocked his head. “Lucky me.”
Her smile was like a flash of sunlight in a dank cave. What the hell? Did he usually indulge in such bizarre imaginings, or was it another result of his head injury?
Cautiously, he touched the back of his head. It was a relief not to encounter a gaping hole. As he let out a thankful breath, he caught sight of three terriers sitting beside the hearth, their avid attention fixed on him.
“Aye, ye were lucky indeed, and that’s a fact. If not for the dogs, we may have passed right by ye without even knowing it.”
The dogs thumped their tails, as if in acknowledgement of their part in his rescue.
“Isolde.” The commanding voice caused him to squint up at the older lady who stood beside his unlikely savior. Although her hair had faded with age, there was no mistaking the hint of auburn, and her eyes were the same piercing green as Isolde’s. Neither was there any mistaking her authority. She was the matriarch of this Sgur Castle, wherever that might be. “Our guest must be made comfortable, now.”
Intriguingly, Isolde did not jump to her feet at the implied command. Instead, she once again smiled at him, and despite the alarming blankness that filled his head, he grinned back.
