Had her heart also escaped her hold?
“Och, Leith,” she murmured. “Och, what are we to do?”
A fair and valid question. He wished he could give her an answer, wished it with everything in him. He longed to tell this woman all would be well, that he would make it so. That they’d find a way to be together.
He could not, so he kept silent, kept silent and ran the palm of his hand up her back, memorizing the feel of her. Threaded his fingers into her hair. Absorbed the sweet smell of her skin.
This might be all he’d ever have of her. Not enough.
To be sure, all too soon she lifted her cheek from his chest and stepped away from him. Gathered herself with stern mastery.
She drew a breath before she said, “What am I thinking? I maun dress that wound. And find ye some clothing. Ye stand here half-naked.”
That made him grin despite her withdrawal from his arms. “D’ye mind?”
She shook her head wildly.
They should be naked together, the two of them. In a big bed somewhere, and with a month or so’s worth of nights to learn each other.
But here he stood, a MacLeod prisoner. And there she stood, daughter of a MacBeith chief.
Hastily she turned away to her basket. “I ha’ clean bandaging. Pray, sit down.”
Half bemused, he obeyed. At least he’d have her hands on him. It would hurt when she drew off the sodden bandages, but it would be worth it.
Aye, it did hurt. He had to suck in his breath and clench his teeth, but her beautiful face hanging above him helped. And her gentle, merciful hands.
As she worked, she scolded him, “Ye never should ha’ been up on your feet. ’Tis much too soon. Only look at the damage ye ha’ done.”
He could see—and feel—the damage. He also felt the relief lent by her touch and the healing when, having smoothed the new bandages, she laid a hand over them and whispered what might be a charm.
She gazed at him. “Ye maun be careful or ye will undo all the work I ha’ done.”
“I will be careful, Rhian. I will do aught ye ask, if ye will but stay wi’ me.”
“It canna be, Leith. Ye maun see, it canna be.”
“I do see that, aye.”
He dove in for another kiss, but she dodged away from him, moving nimbly to pick up her basket.
When she finished repacking it, she cast a look at him where he sat on the pallet.
“They are planning to send ye awa’ back to MacLeod.”
“Aye, I ken. Farlan told me.”
“I do no’ think ye be able to travel yet, and I will say so. But—’twill come. A parting between ye and me.”
An ache started deep inside him. He said nothing.
“I will find ye some proper clothing and ha’ it sent in.”
“Rhian, do no’ go.”
“I must.”
“Pray afford me a few more moments.”
