"Darack," she whispered. "Please open your eyes." She smoothed his hair back from his forehead. "Please tell me you will live."
She had far more to tell him, and far more to ask him. She wanted to know everything about him. She could not even begin to understand the wild and intense feelings he inspired in her. She had never expected it.
He shifted, turning his head, then groaned.
"Darack?" Her heart pounded with excitement. He would recover. He had to. "Are you awake?"
He growled, frowned, then opened his eyes. "Mairiana?"
"Aye. How do you feel?"
"Not good. What the devil happened?"
"You tell me. Some of Alec's men must have attacked you."
His frown deepened. "Aye. Four."
"Four? Two of them were found dead. Where are the other two?" If they were free on board the ship they could come back and finish him off.
"Overboard," he mumbled.
"Oh, you tossed them into the sea?"
"Aye." He ground his teeth, then glanced down at his upper arm and the bound wound. "Bastards," he hissed.
"Do you want some whisky for pain?" She uncorked the bottle.
"Aye."
Holding his head up with one arm while trying to avoid his head injury, she helped him drink all that remained in the bottle. She gently lay his head down again. "We will arrive in Inverness soon. What shall we do then?"
Darack didn't answer. He dropped off to sleep.
