The expression in her hazel eyes argued so, as she paused beside the bed and inspected him.
Climb in wi’ me, he thought shockingly, and mentally he began figuring how to remove her clothing.
“Much pain?” she responded to the grimace.
“I am well enough,” he lied. His chest screamed at him and he was—once more—hard down below.
“Do no’ lie to me, Alan MacKallan.” She conceded the point and added, “Husband.”
Their eyes met. What did that mean, then? Her use of the word sounded almost like claiming.
“Help me up,” he requested. It would give him a chance to touch her, and what was male pride compared to that?
She came readily and lent her shoulder, one arm curled fast around him.
By the time he was on his feet, he was dizzy and sweating—not all the lightheadedness caused by his condition.
At least, notthatcondition.
From very near, she inspected him again. “Ye need the physician. I will request your lady mother call him back.”
He neededher.He eyed her lips. Just there. He could seize them if he tried.
“Gi’ me a moment,” he asked, holding her. “I shall do well enough.”
“I can see ye be in pain.” A frown touched her brow. “Ye did no’ ha’ the benefit o’ all that draught—”
She flushed hot. Both of them remembered what had happened to most the draught.
She deposited him on the edge of the bed without ceremony. “There is more of that powder the physician left. I will mix ye another. And ye will drink it.”
“Aye, Mistress.”
That made her slant a look at him.
“How does your wee maid?”
“Gone down to her breakfast. She will be fine. Where d’ye think—” Her hands hesitated at their task. “Where d’ye think Evan is today?”
“God knows, given this weather.”
“D’ye think he will return to the manor?”
Alan did, truly. Evan was not one to long suffer discomfort, especially once he sobered. Ah, but what a rumpus that would be, with Father expecting guests.
“Here.” She handed him the cup. “Drink.”
“Must I?”
“Aye, so.”
“But ’tis bitter.” Surely she must remember that, having tasted of him. Her purpose in kissing him, presumably.
“Nay matter.”
If I drink like a good lad, will ye kiss me again?He did not ask that question but said instead, “Fine, and then ye can help me dress.”
Her eyes flew to his. “Surely that is wha’ yer man is for.”
