"It depends." The smile came through in his tone.
Oh, what she wouldn't give to be permitted to look into his eyes for five minutes. This, above all things, made her yearn for sight more than ever before.
"Close your eyes." She stroked her palms and thumbs over the lower part of his face, feeling his strong, square jaw. His new growth of beard stubble scraped her palms. She was certain it must be light brown, too—appearing, in the sunlight, like flecks of dark gold. Avoiding his tempting lips, she stroked her fingertips over his nose, finding it straight and noble. His skin felt smooth, no scars to be found like on her own face.
Moving carefully, she stroked the fingertips of both hands over his forehead. "You have a high forehead. You must be highly intelligent."
A short laugh escaped him, his breath warming her wrists. "Some would argue that point."
Smiling, she smoothed her thumbs over his brows, finding them silky. The bone structure of his brows and cheekbones painted a picture in her mind of a man with an incredibly attractive, masculine face. But she would never know for certain if she was right or wrong in her imaginings of him. Her fingers trembled.
He grasped her hands and placed warm kisses on the back of each. "Is my façade that frightening?"
"Nay, on the contrary. You are a most handsome man."
"You exaggerate." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.
Heavens! He took her breath and her mind in one fell swoop. She leaned into him, and he pulled her to sit on his lap. His stubble scratched her chin and her upper lip, but she did not mind. His lips were soft and firm at the same time. Everything about him was amazing and dreamy. She relished the idyllic moment as one that neared perfection.
"Where are you, bastard?" The yell echoed from one of the first two chambers of the cave.
She froze as terror chilled her bones. "'Tis Holme."
***
Glaring at the darkened opening of the passage where Red Holme's voice had echoed, Colin helped Kristina sit on the ground. He arose and pulled the foot-long dirk from the scabbard at his belt, then picked up his sword from the ground. The bastard would find him and Kristina soon enough. If the man was alone, Colin should be able to take him down, although he did not intend to be overconfident. Holme might have a man or two with him.
"Kristina, stay here, in the back corner of the cave," he whispered.
"Aye."
What had happened to Colin's men? How had Red Holme gotten back here without Rusty or Warton seeing him? Damnation, he might have killed both of them. Lawrie and Ethan, too. A sinking feeling settled into his gut.
"I have a knife," Kristina whispered. "He comes near me, I'll stab him. Please have a care."
"I will." Colin was glad Kristina had a weapon, at least, but he intended to do the man in before he could reach her.
A dim light glowed from the entrance to this small cavern.
"He has a lantern," Colin murmured. He'd probably managed to use a flint to light the one that had been snuffed out earlier. Intending to use the element of surprise, Colin picked up a nearby stone.
Holme's breath whooshed in and out as he crawled closer. The lantern dangling from a hand came into Colin's view, then a head. Colin drew back his arm and threw the stone at the lantern. Rock crashed against metal. Holme dropped the lantern and growled out a curse. Near darkness reigned again, but he could still see a hint of movement.
Colin heard a swish and was surprised to see a fist-sized rock whizzing from Kristina's direction. She met her target and Holme roared, "You bastard! I'll kill you for that!"
Colin's chest swelled with pride and admiration for Kristina. With her blindness, how on earth had she managed to strike him? She was a little hellion!
In the dimness, Colin charged Holme before he could rise to his feet, sword aimed at his neck. Holme rolled aside and the sword tip rang against the stone floor. Colin struck again, hitting metal-studded armor.
Holme grabbed Colin's ankle and yanked. Everything spun as Colin flipped through the air and fell to the ground. He landed on his elbow and hip. Pain shot through both joints, but he ignored it as fury and battle lust consumed him.
Before he could arise, metal clanged against the stone beside him—the tip of Holme's blade stabbing into the cave floor as he tried to strike Colin. Using his dirk, Colin slashed upward, making contact. Holme yelped.
Colin rolled out of the way and bounded to his feet. He slashed his sword back and forth toward Holme's dull silhouette. Sparks popped off the smashing blades, providing a bit more illumination. This was a horrid place to fight—too dark and enclosed.
Holme's blade struck Colin's sword arm, forming a shallow but painful gash. "Bastard!" He slashed back, cutting Holme's wrist and eliciting a growl. Twice more their blades clashed and Holme's blade went flying through the air.
Colin drove his blade toward Holme's gut, but before he could make contact, Holme dodged aside and crouched. Instantly, he launched himself at Colin with a roar, tackling him backward. Colin's back smashed against a large stone. Amid the blinding pain, he lost his grip on the sword, and it clattered away.
"Damnation!" Colin shoved at Holme, then slashed his forearm with the dirk. Yelling, Holme knocked the blade from his hand, dragged him up and punched his jaw, knocking Colin backward. Unable to stop the fall, Colin splashed into the icy river and his head struck a stone, triggering devastating pain. "Nay!" he yelled before the rushing water engulfed him and carried him downward. In the shock of it, he forgot to hold his breath. Cold water filled his lungs.
