She nodded, though her knee smarted fromwhere it had struck the rock. 'Twas only a bruise, and he need notlook at her leg now. He'd already seen too much of her body.
"You impress me greatly, m'lady."
Camille was shocked into silence for amoment. "Why?"
"Knocking a man out cold. And you do not seemthe least bit upset over what just happened. Most women would becrying and wailing."
She shook her head. "'Twas not so terrible,was it? I've survived worse."
"You have?" He frowned. "Another attack?"
"Indeed. My cousin and I. In France, morethan a year ago. We learned to survive."
His curious gaze searched hers. "Whathappened?"
"'Tis a long story." She was unsure whethershe wanted to tell him she might have caused a French lord to drownwhen she'd pushed him off a bridge. But that had been Pierre's ownfault for trying to kill her. She'd but defended herself. She didnot think she could get in trouble for it now, but who knew? It wasnot something she discussed with anyone except Angelique andLachlan. Pierre's companion, Girard, had been in Scotland last fallto avenge his friend's death and to reclaim a diamond necklace fromAngelique. He had not been successful at either and had been killedinstead. Camille had felt safe since then.
Though she was uncertain of her safety now,she was not terrified. She knew she was capable of things mostpeople would not expect from her.
"Is your knee hurt?" he asked, startling herfrom her thoughts.
She found herself unconsciously rubbing hersore knee, then straightened. "It is nothing. Only a bruise."
"Let me see. Can you walk to the log?" Hetook her hand.
"I am well. 'Tis naught to worry over." Shestrolled to the log and sat.
"Does it pain you?" He pushed the blanket andlong shirt upward and bared her knee.
"Non.I told you." Heat rushed overher, though she didn't know why. After all, he'd seen a lot morethan her leg earlier. But this memory only served to embarrass hermore.
His warm, strong hands upon her calf sentchills up her thighs and to regions she should not be thinking ofnow, with him knelt before her.
He lightly stroked a gentle finger over asmall reddish spot. "Aye, 'tis a bruise, but you might have hurtthe joint. Let me know if it pains you. I'm sorry I was not closerto protect you from the beasts. 'Tis my fault you're out here indanger," he said.
"Oui, that is true." She smirked,unable to believe that he actually seemed to regret abducting her."But I defeated the bastard myself."
Dugald gave a short laugh, admiration shiningin his eyes. "Indeed, you did. And, back in Perth, you nearlyflattened my nose like a bannock." He rubbed a finger over thepurplish spot. "All I ask is that you don't bash me on the headwith a rock."
She gave him a cunning look.
"Or stick me with that wee dirk."
"You saw that, did you?"
"Aye. Why didn't you stab me at the firstopportunity?"
"I thought about it. But what good would itdo? I could not fight two dozen men."
"I'm glad you're so reasonable, but I wouldwager, you still would like to stab me and gain your freedom."
She shook her head. "If I were going to stabyou, I would've already done it… back in that tent, when all yourmen had gone into the wood and you were naked." But stabbing himhad been the last thing on her mind at that moment.
He lifted a brow, watching her, assessingher. Until that moment, she had not realized green eyes could beso… heated. A knowing light entered his eyes. "Did you like whatyou saw, m'lady?"
Heat scorched over her, but she refused tolower her gaze. "Did you?"
He grinned wickedly. "Oh, aye, indeed. Whatred-blooded male doesn't like a buxom lass with creamy, smooth skinand hard, dusky pink nipples?"
