She stretched. “He seems like anhonorable man.”
“How much does heknow about us?”
“That the English attacked our ship. With the cog ablaze and believing we were dead, they departed.”
“Good, but a few—”
She cleared her throat pointedly as another blush swept Lathir’s cheeks. “I think it prudent to dress before we continue our discussion.”
God’s truth, where was hismind? “Indeed.”
“Here.”
She handed him his trews from the hook near the fire, then a large tunic that no doubt belongedto their host.
“My shirt?” Rónán asked.
“’Twas nay more than tatters. You are fortunate to be alive. If Tighearnán hadna arrived and helped to haul you out of the water…” Her voice broke at the last.
To give her a moment to recover herself, he took his time donning the shirt. “But he was, and we are safe. ’Tis naught to worry about now.”
She gave a slowexhale. “Aye.”
Rónán turned his back to give her privacy, donned the remainder of his garb. “TheAodh?”
The splintering wood of the hull breaking against rocks as Rónán, battered by the spray of water against the rocks, hung unconscious, flashed throughLathir’s mind.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to calm. Rónán was alive; ’twas all that mattered. “The ship was crushed against the stones. Broken planks are strewn along the shoreline, with many more dragged out to sea.”
Mouth grim, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Let us hope the English come upon the wreckage and believe we died.”
“Aye.” She secured her last tie. “Are you dressed?”
“I am.”
She turned.
Rónán motioned to a bench. “Sit and break your fast.”
As if after recalling his near death she could eat?“I will later.”
Concern darkened his eyes as they skimmed over her.“Are you hurt?”
He didn’t understand how she struggled with the fact that she’d nearly lost him. How could he when she fought to understand her intense reaction toward him herself? They had known each other less than a fortnight. It should be impossible for Rónán to matter, but something about him drew her.
Nor had she missed the tension simmering between them moments before. A dangerous awareness when, throughout the night, as she’d checked on him, heated his body with a cloth dipped in warm water, she’d found herself unable to keep from gliding her hand along the hard curve of his face, or linger on the firm tiltof his mouth.
What would it be like for a man like him to kiss her?
Heat swept her as her gaze slid to his strong jaw and rested on his lips. On an unsteady breath, she lifted her eyes to his. ’Twas best to keep her mind on their conversation and away from intimate thoughts. “A few bruises.”
He rolled his shoulders, then tugged up the right leg of his trews to reveal a large patch of discolored skin.
Compassion rolled through her, and she ached to caress the harsh bruise.
Rónán released the fabric. “I have suffered far worse.”
No doubt, considering what he’d told her of his brutal childhood. Yet, despite the horrific beatings he’d suffered, goodness filled him.
