Highlander Enchanted(57)

His breathing became deep enough to assure her he had fallen into sleep.

Face hot, fingers fumbling, Isabel untied the trews and settled beside him on the bed, beginning to work them down his hips. Desire flared uncomfortably within her, making her hands clumsy and her eyes flicker incessantly towards the bulge of his manhood. Rolling down the top of his trews, she admired the ridges of his flat stomach, the muscles wrapping around his hips towards his crotch, the trail of hair leading her towards the part of him currently mesmerizing her focus.

Unable to lift him, she shifted him from side to side until the material stuck. Isabel went to his feet and began tugging the trews from that angle, cringing every time she jerked too hard and caused his body to move.

Finally, she had tugged the trews free and stood beside the bed.

His manhood, no longer stiff, was nonetheless long and thick, draped across the top of one thigh.

Mouth dry, Isabel stared at it, almost crippled by the idea of him inside her. Her wet nurse had not warned her about the size of a man’s arousal. This was what the sacred part of her ached for – and she was far too intrigued by it, by imagining what it felt like inside her.

Crossing herself with a quick prayer of forgiveness for thinking such unclean thoughts when a man was bleeding before her, Isabel tore her eyes away and focused on the stab wound in his thigh. She quickly cleaned and bound the wound then sat back, staring once more at Cade’s manhood.

She pulled the coverlet to his waist, frowning at the flushed nature of his face. She had seen him weary and vulnerable in the forest, but this was different. The strongest man she had ever known was weak before her eyes and so unlike the person who ripped men apart at Laird Duncan’s.

She retrieved her dressing gown and replaced it then fetched clean water and rags and set them down on the table near the bed. He was sleeping peacefully, albeit fevered. Crossing to the pendants and herbs dangling from the top of the window, she wished she knew more of his magic. Her talisman helped the heart heal. Which of these might help heal his body?

Wind laden with raindrops swept into the room, chilling her. It was not yet light enough to see the sky, but she imagined it weeping for Cade, fearful for the man connected to it by magic.

Pulling the stool to the sill, she stood on it and pulled down all the talismans from their positions. Each glowed a different color, and they were warm to the touch despite the rain and cold breeze.

Isabel returned to the bed and sat beside Cade. Unfamiliar with the power of the pendants, she lifted his arm and carefully wrapped the leather necklaces of each pendant around his wrist.

She sat beside him, studying his features, and placed his hand in her lap.

Hours before, she had been terrified of this very man after the display at Laird Duncan’s. Now, she feared for his life.

He was a stranger, even if he were legally her husband. Why did her heart skip a beat and her chest seize whenever she considered he might not survive? Why did such a thought fill her with despair similar to what she experienced while watching her father pass away?

Gaze glued to his features, she gripped his hand in both of hers and listened to the sound of wind wail outside and Cade’s steady breathing.

A light knock sounded at the door. Reluctantly, she left the bed and went to it.

Brian stood in the hallway, carrying a small satchel. “How is he?” he asked with abruptness she would find uncomely any other time.

“Not well,” she said and stepped aside for him to enter. “I dressed all his wounds, but he has a fever.”

Brian went to his cousin’s side and dumped the contents of the satchel beside Cade. “Heat some water for tea,” he directed her.

Isabel hurried to obey, hoping Brian or his seillie magic was going to cure the husband she was not certain she wanted.

“You did this?” he asked, an odd note in his tone.

She looked up from the pot she settled into the fire.

Brian had Cade’s wrist. Pendants dangled from it.

“Yes,” she said. “I thought they might help.”

Brian allowed a small smile to slip free.

“Is that wrong?” she asked quickly.

“Ye ‘ave a good heart,” he replied. “These willna help him, but they will comfort him when he wakes.” He set down Cade’s hand.

A little embarrassed she did not know more of their magic, Isabel waited by the fire until the water was close to boiling, then filled a goblet and returned to Brian. He dumped a pungent mix of herbs into the water and swirled it, waiting for it to cool.

“Wake up, cousin,” he whispered and shook Cade until his eyes opened.

Cade’s gaze was unfocused, and he blinked rapidly.

Lifting his head, Brian placed the goblet at his lips and poured the liquid down his throat, ensuring Cade swallowed before releasing him.

“How is he?” she asked anxiously.

“He will be well once Niall returns with Marie,” Brian said. “And ye?” He twisted to face her. “Laird Duncan didna hurt ye?”

“No. He was civilized.”

Brian snorted. “Ne’er heard him called such.”

“He believed me worth ransoming,” she replied. “We cannot leave while Cade is ill.”

“No we canna. But ye can,” he said and rose. “Cade would ne’er forgive me if I let ye stay here when Duncan comes.”

“I will not leave him,” she replied. “I am his wife. This is where I belong.”