"Go back down!" he commanded, terrified she would be hit.
Stubborn woman didn't listen. Instead, she latched her hands onto his forearm and tried to drag him farther from the window. "I should've never allowed you up here."
"Elspeth, what the devil? 'Tis too dangerous for you to be here."
"And too dangerous for you to stand before the open window and take aim! The last thing I want is for someone to be killed in my home while protecting me."
They both crouched against the wall, beside a small bed and out of range. Damnation, she had him completely distracted from his objective of destroying the enemy. She was taking it upon herself to protect him. Was she mad?
"You think so little of my archery skills?"
"'Tis not that." Her eyes pleaded with him to see reason. "You're not immortal."
"I never claimed to be." And what the hell business did she have worrying about him? He couldn't do his duty of protecting her if she wouldn't let him.
An arrow struck the open window, driving into the wood frame and spraying splinters. Cyrus put Elspeth behind him, shielding her body with his. She wrapped her arms around him, much as she had on the horse, except now they crossed over his chest.
As he tried to move her arms back, a quick succession of three more arrows flew into the room, each ricocheting off the brick wall. In the chaos, one metal tip bounced off Elspeth's forearm, piercing her skin. She gave a startled shriek. Damnation! 'Twas what he'd feared most.
Thankfully, the arrowhead did not embed.
Growling a curse, Cyrus laid the bow aside, then snatched her up and carried her down the narrow stairwell, out of range. "Are you all right?"
"I think so." She breathed hard and her heartbeat thumped against his chest. Her jittery hands clutched at his doublet and plaid sash.
"Are you mad, woman? You should've never gone back up there." Still moving downward past the first landing, he found it was still too dark to see her wound.
"I am well. Truly," she said in a breathy tone. "I can walk."
After reaching the next landing, he lowered her to her feet, glad to see she had no trouble standing. "Should be safe enough here."
By a wall sconce, he examined the wound on her forearm. The nick was small, thank the saints, but a thin trickle of blood ran a couple of inches down toward her wrist. "If you would've kept your arms behind me, this wouldn't have happened."
With wide, panicked eyes she observed him. "Then you would've been struck again."
"It wouldn't have hurt me."
"Nor does it hurt me," she stated firmly.
"Stubborn woman."
She frowned. "No more stubborn than you are."
God's teeth, they truly were too much alike.
Finally believing she was safe, he inhaled a deep breath. "How do you feel?"
"It stings, but I'll be fine." She appeared overly pale to him and her eyes big and haunted. Clearly, she was still frightened.
"Aye, you will. Don't be fainting on me."
"Have no worries about it. I have never fainted." She gave him a rebellious, annoyed look which seized his interest and made him want to smile. He admired the hell out of her courage.
Though the stairwell was dim with only one candle's flame, her beautiful features were clear to him. He found himself paying special attention to her sensual lips and wanted to kick himself. He forced his gaze down to her arm again. The bleeding had almost stopped. "You need to have the healer put salve on this and wrap it. You shouldn't have gone up there with me."
"I'm just glad you weren't hurt again." Her troubled expression showed true apprehension over his safety, something he had rarely glimpsed in a woman's eyes. Though 'twas a foolish decision, she had come up there to drag him out of harm's way. He was stunned. A woman had never attempted such a rash thing for him before. And yet, he found her concern for him bizarrely arousing.
He had gone daft to think of such things during a dangerous situation. He should return upstairs and shoot arrows at the blackguards.
But he couldn't move from where he was right now. For a suspended moment, he was held captive by Elspeth's dark amber eyes gleaming in the candlelight. Her lush rosy mouth lured him closer, compelling him to steal a kiss.
She might well slap his face, but he couldn't resist this brief indulgence. Never could he recall such an extreme hunger for a woman's mouth.
The first touch of her soft lips against his was like a sizzling bolt of lightning. Nothing could have wrenched him away from her in that moment. Marveling at her delicious sensuality, he melded his mouth to hers, tasting her astonishing sweetness. At first 'twas only wee flicks of his tongue, but he craved more, deeper.
Saints! He didn't ken what madness had overtaken him, but he was powerless to resist it. She tasted as intoxicating as honeyed, spiced wine. He wanted but another sip… and another. He near drowned in the rich experience of her.
Need rampaged through his body as never before, hot and hard-driving. Her soft curves against him fired his blood, insisting that he take her now.
