Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(69)

“It matters to you,” he said after a minute, “my safety?”

She stilled, not knowing what he wanted from her. “I . . .” She was scared. Scared that giving voice to her fragile feelings would somehow put him at risk.

Did he care for her? His voice gave no hint to his own thoughts. “Yes,” she said instead. “More than anything.”

It was enough. Her answer appeared to satisfy him, because he hugged her a little tighter. The frantic race of her pulse had calmed, but the accident played over and over in her mind. “It happened so fast.”

“Aye, if I hadn’t heard the sound and looked up . . .” Never had she heard such emotion in his voice. Jamie Campbell, the most feared man in the Highlands, had been scared—for her. He cleared his throat. “When I find out who was responsible . . .”

The dark edge in his voice chilled her. “I’m sure it was only an accident.”

He held her gaze, and she knew he shared her suspicions. “I’m sure no one had any intention that you would be harmed.”

He’d chosen his words with care, leaving her no doubt that he suspected someone had tried to kill him. She prayed Seamus hadn’t been behind it, but her loyalty to her clansmen could be stretched only so far and it stopped at attempted murder. If Seamus was responsible, he would pay the price.

“I haven’t thanked you,” she realized, looking up at him. “For saving my life.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I told you I’d always take care of you, and I meant it.” He drew her under his uninjured arm, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her tight against the length of his body. She nuzzled her head under his chin and laid her hand on his chest, the hard muscle solid and reassuring beneath her fingertips. She smoothed her hand over the rigid plane, sculpting the familiar contours of his chest, wanting to hold on to this moment forever. With all that had happened in the past few months, she’d never thought to feel like this again—safe and content.

She didn’t need to say anything. She sensed that he knew what she was thinking because he felt the same. A falling beam of wood had done what neither of them had been able to do, strip away the layers of pretense to reveal the truth. Only when faced with the horrible fear of losing him had she accepted what he’d come to mean to her.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, speaking her thoughts aloud. Yet she had no wish to take them back.

He stilled. “And I you.”

“I never should have said what I did. You’ve never given me cause not to trust you. I do trust you, it’s just . . .” She searched for the right word but was only able to come up with “complicated.”

But somehow, he seemed to understand. “Aye. I can’t promise there won’t be problems.”

“I know.” But whatever their problems with her clan’s acceptance of him, she was no longer willing to allow it to take her from his bed.

Her hand slid down his stomach, absently tracing the taut bands of muscle. His arousal rose hard against his breeches. For a moment, she wanted to cover him with her hand, feel the steel rod under her fingers. But then she remembered he was hurt.

She jerked her hand away. “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks burned. “I wasn’t thinking.” She sat up and attempted to move off the bed. “I should leave you to rest—”

She gasped when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back down on top of him. “No.” His voice was dark and insistent. He took her chin and lifted her mouth to his, placing a tender kiss on her lips. “Stay. I need you.”

“But your shoulder . . .”

“I assure you, the pleasure you will give me is the best draught for the pain.” He looked deep into her eyes, his gaze soft and liquid, and smoothed a lock of hair from her brow. “Take my pain away, Caitrina.” She looked at the bandage on his arm, but he turned her chin. “Make me forget,” he whispered, and kissed her again.

She heard his plea deep in her heart. She wanted to forget, too. Forget the accident that had nearly taken him from her forever and the foolish days they’d spent apart. He drew her lips apart, sliding his tongue deep in her mouth with a long, sensual kiss, before releasing her.

Her breath came hard and fast. “You don’t fight fair.”

He grinned. “It’s been too long.”

She shook her head. “It’s been three days.”

“Almost four.”

She laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

He kissed her again and slid his hand down the curve of her spine to rest on her bottom, pressing her against his heavy erection. “No, I’m a desperate man. Have pity on me, lass.”

He looked so in earnest, she had to laugh. “How am I to fight such a heartfelt request?”

He grinned and pulled her into his arms. “You aren’t.”

In truth, it was just what she desperately needed as well. Not until she was in his arms again would she feel perfectly safe.

She feigned severity. “Very well, but there will be conditions.”

He quirked a brow. “I’m listening.”

“You have to stay still.”

A very naughty grin played upon his lips. “I’ll do my best. What else?”

“You’ll tell me if it hurts.”