Page 103 of Dark Lover

Ian’s answer was to walk over to where she sat. He knelt and he put his hands on her bloody leg. Sam realized that he didn’t want to heal her. Maybe that was because he’d have to admit to himself that bad boys didn’t heal, making him one of the good guys after all. When would he give the rebel act up? She gasped at the sensation of his healing warmth flooding into her. Instantly the pain dimmed. The warmth intensified, creeping up her leg into her thigh. She stared at him, becoming a bit breathless.

His eyes were on her knee, his huge hands wrapped around her calf. The pain was like a dull headache now. She couldn’t help it—the feeling of his hands had become sensual. She wondered what it would be like to have those hands elsewhere, flooding her with their white heat.

She wouldn’t mind him moving those hands higher.

He slowly looked up at her.

“I can’t recall,” she said softly, “if I ever got around to saying thank-you for the rescue.”

His eyes had changed during the healing, telling her that he was getting off on it, too, but his face was hard. He was angry, but controlling it. Sam didn’t know why. “Forget it.”

What was wrong with Maclean? His comeback should have been provocative, rude and sexual. “No, I’m not going to forget it. You’ve come to my rescue a few times. I am not used to being a damsel in distress. I’m used to playing hero.” When he didn’t speak, she said seriously, “I owe you, Ian, and I always repay my debts.”

“The monk took ye captive to get at me,” he said abruptly, moving his hands to her thigh.

She inhaled, her heart thundering now. But she focused on what he meant. He was blaming himself. “Hemmer captured me,” she said. “It isn’t your fault. We’re in this together. What are you doing?”

He took her arm in his hands. “Getting rid of the scratches and cuts.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said thickly. How far was the closest bedroom, she wondered. Was he truly upset because he thought that he was to blame for what she’d just gone through? “I’ve been through a lot worse. It’s part of the job.”

He moved to her other leg, running one hand up and down it, ignoring her comment.

“You’re getting awfully good at this,” Sam joked, really on fire.

“I want him dead,” he said, finally looking at her.

Okay, she thought, both of her legs and one arm now unblemished. “Is that why we’re here? So we can go back to Carlisle and nail him? Because I want a piece of the action.”

Ian stood. “He needs to pay,” he said abruptly. “And for the last time, there is no ‘we.

She got up, taking his wrist. “He needs to pay for what he almost did to me, or what he did do to you for about a decade?”

He wrenched away. As he did, Tabby ran into the room with Brie. “We were hoping you’d come here!” Tabby cried.

Maclean walked away from her, arms crossed over his chest. Sam was worried. It couldn’t be easy, coming face-to-face with one of his captors. He was going to confront the monk and she couldn’t blame him. Vengeance was a great idea. But going it alone was not. She understood that he dreaded this particular battle. She wanted—needed—to know why. That meant she needed to know the details of his relationship with Carlisle. And she dreaded that.

But she smiled at her sister and cousin as they ran up to her.

“Okay,” Brie said. “Now we can catch up!”

“SO WHAT COMES NEXT?” Brie asked.

Two bottles of wine were empty. Sam sat with Brie and Tabby at the trestle table, a small fire lazily licking the wood in the hearth. The men had left them to their own devices. Sam knew Ian had gone to a guest chamber, and she hoped he was calmer now. She had spent at least an hour bringing her sister and cousin up to speed. Tabby and Brie knew every relevant detail of the past few days. They knew that Ian had stolen the page of illusion, and that it was not his first theft. She’d told them about Hemmer and the monk, and they knew that the monk had been his guard for the last ten years of his captivity. And Sam had told them that Ian had revealed that he’d stashed the page at Loch Awe in the present. Now, Tabby reached for Sam’s hand.

It was so great to be back together, Sam thought. She looked at Brie. “I have to recover the page and hand it over to Nick, which will stop some of this madness.

“Can you really betray Ian?” Tabby asked softly.

Sam tensed. “Can you read minds now, or do you still know me inside and out?”

Tabby smiled. “No, Sam, I can’t read minds, except for Guy’s. But I do know you as well as I ever have. You haven’t told us everything, have you?”

Sam was rueful. Tabby suspected the truth. She glanced at Brie and sighed. “Okay, Maclean is hot. I caved. I laid Maclean.”

“Sam!” Tabby gave her the best schoolteacher stare she possessed.

Sam smiled then. “Am I made?”