Amanda winced in agony and gave a gasp of pain, which Hamish noticed. A flash of guilt appeared in his eyes for a second, but he said nothing. She thought of him to be a man who could not afford to show weakness. One that hardened his heart every day.
“Everyone else is still asleep. You must go and wash in the burn. You smell awful.”
Amanda was outraged. “If I do, it is your fault!” she cried. “I did not ask to be tied to a tree all night!”
Hamish ignored her and tossed a drying cloth at her, then escorted her down to the shore of the small, fast-flowing river.
“Be careful,” he warned. “It’s deep in the middle.”
“Thank you for telling me,” she replied, then frowned. “Are you sure it is safe to go in?”
“I go in every day,” he replied dryly. “And I am still here. Just try not to slip. I do not want to have to rescue you.”
Amanda nodded and looked around the river. Shivers run through her body, thinking of the cold water on her skin. But as she looked around some more, she spotted a profusion of dandelions growing. She quickly knelt down by the side of the water, and breathed a sigh of relief; she could make a poultice from them to soothe and heal the wounds on her wrists, which stung painfully.
She picked a couple of handfuls, then looked at Hamish, who was watching her carefully.
“What are you doing? What are those for?” he asked suspiciously. He looked like he knew nothing about herbs and flowers, so he had no way of interpreting her actions. She guessed he would be imagining her making the flowers into poison of some kind.
“I am going to make a poultice to help heal my wrists.” She held them out for his inspection, and he flinched as he saw the raw flesh. “I have no other use for them—they are no good for making poison.”
And even if I did, do you think I would be stupid enough to let you see me picking them?she thought scornfully.
She dipped her hands in the cold water and sighed as she felt the immediate relief of her pain. However, she knew that immersing herself in the icy liquid would not be pleasant, but it had to be done.
“I will give you a little while to bathe and dress,” Hamish told her sternly. “Out of respect for you, I will turn my back, but donot try to run away because my store of kindness has run out. If you try, I’ll catch you in seconds and I won’t be gentle!” He looked down at his big, firm, masculine body to emphasise his point.
As he had promised, he turned and began to walk away, but he went only a few steps before he stopped, not even ten yards from the bank.
“I am not used to having men around me when I bathe,” Amanda said angrily.
“I assure you, you have nothing I have not seen before, healer,” he drawled, laughing.
Amanda was furious at his lack of respect, but she swiftly put it out of her mind. After all, what else could she have expected from a man who had seen nothing wrong in kidnapping a woman? She began to unfasten her dress, glancing back at Hamish every few seconds to make sure that he was looking away from her.
She turned to go into the water, gasping with shock at its icy bite. After a few moments, however, she became somewhat accustomed to it; it was nowhere near as comfortable as a warm bath, but it would do fine on cleaning her.
Amanda scrubbed herself all over with the rough soap Hamish had given her, then emerged from the water and immediately wrapped the cloth around herself just in case Hamish should look round. He was so disrespectful that it would not have surprised her one bit. However, he kept his word, and Amanda was faced with only the sight of his broad back until she was fully dressed.
However, instead of him gazing at her, Amanda found herself looking at Hamish’s broad shoulders and powerfully muscled body, and despite the way he had treated her, he was arousing her in a way she had never felt before.
His golden hair was unusual even among Scots, where there were so many redheads she was quite astounded, but Amanda found it incredibly attractive. In fact, she found every bit of him almost too handsome for words, and it saddened her that his character did not match his looks.
He was as hard as flint, and there did not seem to be a single redeeming quality in his nature. She had not seen him smile, except when one of his men had made a remark about mixing a poison with which to kill his brother. What kind of man could contemplate such a thing?
Again she thought about Rose and Claire, and the notion of doing such a thing to them was unbearable. Even the thought of it gave her a physical pain in her belly.
No, Hamish McNeill was a monster.
As they walked back to the camp along the well-worn path, Amanda noticed how dirty her clothes were, and realised that she would have to ask for clean ones. The thought filled her with dread, since she knew it would probably have to ask Fiona, who was now effectively her keeper, but she could hardly go on looking like a tramp. Her pride would not allow it.
Hamish had promised Amanda that he would not look at her, but as he heard the splash of her finally getting into the river, he could not resist a glance behind him. He saw Amanda’s pale shoulders disappearing under the water.
My god, she is gorgeous,he thought, and felt his traitorous man’s body’s prompt reaction.
Hamish tried to think of something else to distract himself, but when he heard Amanda emerging from the water again, hehad to use all his willpower to stop himself from turning to gaze his fill of her.
She was temptation personified!
