Page 11 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

To keep her feelings in check, Deva murmured, more to herself than anything.

“It’s just as well ye didn’t try getting up, after all, eh?”

“Wha…?” the lad looked around, dazed for a while, then, just as Deva had feared, he tried raising his head again.

Looking perturbed, the lad reached for the bedclothes.

“Ach, I cannae be here, my Uncle will skelp me!” he said, trying his hardest to snatch the covers away and break free of the bed.

“Sir, nae,” she said, pressing him back down but gently. Placing her hand on the lad’s sweating forehead, she shook her head.

Another shock of electricity buzzed through her, upending her thoughts. The lad glanced at her with confusion in his amber eyes.

“An’ yer surely a wee bit auld for a skelping,” she said, more to chase the thoughts from her head. She cocked the lad an unsure grin.

Deva plumped the pillows and helped him sink back down into the bed. Now awake, she noticed the weariness in his face.

Out of nowhere, a vision of kissing him softly on the lips danced into her head. And as soon as the thought was in her mind, it was impossible to unthink it. The sensation of his potential kiss was all too real.

Guilty of what was going on in her head, Deva hung back, awkwardly, watching as his eyes followed hers.

“Och, ye’ve nae met my uncle,” replied the lad, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips, “He likes to be in charge.”

“Does he noo? Perhaps he should meet my father—they sound like they should get on well!” Deva was keeping her voice light, but in her head, she had hit panic.

Whoops. Allyth’s words came back at her, nae tell him who ye are.

“Really? Well, I suppose it’s a wee bit different for a lass,” said the lad. Now he had positioned himself more fully against the cushions, sitting up in the bed with what looked like an impish look on his firm cheeks.

Deva was aware that his eyes had fastened on her, seeming to penetrate her with their honey gaze. A rush of heat came through her, and her cheeks reddened.

“An’ so then, who is yer father, he sounds like quite the man?” his words teased her, as did his eyes, dancing around her face, laughing at her.

Deva hesitated. “Ach, just… a faither,” she said, smiling and leaning over him once more to plump his pillows again. They didn’t really need it, but something inside her compelled her to bring her face closer to his.

Now they were face to face, almost cheek to cheek on the bed. Under the pretext of cooling him down, she brought the compress up to his face, liberally rubbing it over his forehead.

But it hadn’t been properly squeezed, and droplets of ice water trickled down his face like tears. A shiver ran through her, and, she guessed, him too.

“Och,” he murmured, as Deva immediately dabbed at the droplets with a clean handkerchief.

“Excuse me,” she said, running her fingers down his chin and catching the drips. In doing so, she felt the smooth sheen of his skin ripen against her fingers.

A velvet bliss filled her, making her glow inside and out. Forgetting herself for a moment, Deva froze as his warm brown eyes met her own.

“Nae fash, lassie,” he said dreamily, “Ye’ve got a healing touch, didnae one tell ye?”

There was just a hint of mischief in his face as he brought it up close to hers. Just for a minute, Deva thought he would lean in and kiss him. In her head, it was already happening. They were locked deep, in the heat of passion, hot in an embrace.

Blushing at the thought of such a torrid scene, Deva stepped away as if he might read her thoughts. And from the amused look in his eyes, it seemed as if he could.

“There’s nae need to be embarrassed,” he said, cocking his head sideways and giving her a shy grin, “Ye should just learn to take a compliment, lass!”

He stared at her, his gaze lingering quite shamefully for a matter of seconds. Deva felt herself go red. Again.

She shouldn’t be doing this.

Her cheeks ablaze, Deva hastily collected some of the things by the bedside and made a pretense of doing something with them. Anything to avoid his inquisitive gaze.