Annie nodded and then sniffed appreciatively. “I think I care more about hot food than a hot bath at the moment.”
“I agree.” Niall moved to the table to hold out a chair for her and then winked. “I doona do this for just any lad, mind.” Annie gave him an exasperated look which only made him chuckle as she took the seat.
She picked up the ladle and spooned stew into the two slightly chipped bowls on the tray while Niall poured ale into tin cups. He sat, lifting his. “A toast.”
Annie looked surprised as she lifted her cup as well. “To what?”
He touched his rim to hers. “To a successful escape.”
“Aye.” Annie took a sip of ale. “I have ye to thank for that. If that mob had caught me—”
“Doona think on it,” Niall replied and changed the subject. “Let us just enjoy the first real meal we’ve had in two days.”
She nodded again and they both set to devouring the delicious stew and fresh bread with soft butter. Having a full belly restored his strength and he was almost able to ignore the pain in his thigh as he finished his ale. Even so, it was hard not to wince when he pushed back from the table and stood.
“I’ll take a short walk while ye wash at the basin.”
Annie gathered the dishes and put them back on the tray. “Perhaps ye can take this back downstairs?”
Niall had intended only to linger down the hall and not use the stairs until morning, but he nodded. Annie probably didn’t want Elsa showing up again. “I will.”
He made his way downstairs and had a tankard of ale in the public room, hoping that would give Annie enough time to freshen up. He had no idea how long she needed. Some women seemed to require hours, but then Annie wasn’t preparing to attend a ball, just go to bed.
Bed. Niall pushed away the thought of the soft bed upstairs that was large enough for both of them. He hardly relished sleeping on the hard floor, although he had spoken truth when he said he’d had worst. But the last thing Annie needed was to feel threatened by him after they’d narrowly made their escape from the angry horde in Glasgow. Maybe he should have another tankard of ale and when he went upstairs she’d already be asleep.
No such luck. When he opened the door to their room some twenty minutes later, Annie was sitting up in bed, braced against the headboard, the woolen blanket pulled to her waist. She was still wearing his shirt, but he noticed the breeches were neatly folded over a chair, which meant her legs would be bare under the covers. He bit back a groan. It was going to be a long night.
“I was wondering what happened to ye,” Annie said.
Niall shrugged. “I did nae ken how much time ye would need.”
“Nae much,” Annie replied. “I left ye some fresh water to wash with.”
“Thank ye.” Niall pulled off his boots and began to unwrap his great plaid. As he did, he noticed that even though Annie had turned her head, she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. He smiled in spite of himself. Would she turn away when he removed his tunic as well?
He let the tartan drop and reached for the hem of the long shirt. He had it half the way over his head when he heard a rustle and then a thud as Annie’s feet hit the floor. For a moment, he thought she was fleeing the room. He pulled the long shirt back over his head to see her standing there, staring at him. Or rather, his thigh. It took another moment for him to realize she looked horrified, not fascinated. He glanced down and then frowned. Dried blood stained the bandage and the skin around it was an angry-looking red.
“Sit.” Annie pulled up a chair and practically pushed him into it. Then she started unwrapping the dirty linen to expose the cut. She made a clucking sound. “The wound looks like it has festered.”
“It has nae festered,” Niall said. “’Tis just nae closed yet.”
Annie gave him a look as though he were a half-wit. Which maybe he was since the sight of her bare legs was making it impossible for him to think clearly. “The doctor in Crianlarich can tend it tomorrow.”
“If the infection spreads…” She didn’t finish the sentence but hurried to the saddlebag, burrowing through it like a squirrel for his flask and the rest of the shirt she’d torn apart the night before. “I doona ken why ye did nae tell me of this condition earlier,” she fussed as she poured whisky into the wound and then started wrapping a clean bandage around his leg. “Stubborn man.”
Niall clenched his jaw at the sting of the liquor, then forced a smile. “I did nae ken ye wanted to see my thigh.”
Annie gave him another infuriated look, although she blushed a little. He glanced down to where her hands still rested on his leg. The softness of her touch so close to his manhood made his cock stir with interest under his tunic. He shifted to squelch the movement, but it was too late. Annie’s face flamed. She whisked her hands away as though she’d just touched hot iron. Which was rather the way his shaft was feeling.
“If ye will hand me one of the blankets, I will just settle in here by the fire,” he said.
Annie shook her head. “Ye are nae lying on a hard floor in that condition.”
Niall felt his eyes widen before he realized she was talking about the condition of his leg and not his cock. “’Tis only one bed, lass. I will nae have ye sleeping on the floor.”
If possible, her face turned redder. “I ken that.”
Niall paused. “Ye would share the bed with me?”
