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“It’s a mere cut, dinnae worry,” he said before lifting his léine so she could see the cut. “It isnae deep, it will heal fast so ye dinnae have to worry.”

“We need to treat it still,” Isla said before looking at him.

Jack swallowed hard. “The men who attacked me are assassins. I killed the ones in the tent, but I am certain that is not all of them. There will be more after me and I cannae think of anywhere else that will be safe besides here. The lady we met at the entrance is a healer. Ye should get her for me.”

Isla still did not think it was safe for her, but she had to trust Jack’s words.

She hurried out front to find the woman, and once she did, she said in a fake Scottish accent she had managed to learn. “Ye must hurry, the man is wounded and needs help.”

The woman said nothing. Isla wondered if she could speak. She watched as the woman went into an inner chamber, then returned with a vial and handed it to her with a box.

Isla opened it and found it was all she needed to treat and stitch Jack’s wound.

When she returned to the chamber, Jack had taken off his léine and was standing in the middle of the wide empty chamber with his back to her.

Seeing his naked body aroused her even though he was injured. Isla shoved all heated thoughts that entered her mind as she locked the chamber and went to him.

Jack turned around and she said, “Herbs for your wound.”

He nodded, then sat on the bed so she could clean his wound with a damp towel and treat it.

“Do ye ken why it is safe here for us tonight?” he asked her after a while.

Isla shook her head. Then she washed her hands in the bowl of water and returned to sit beside him. “The woman down there was born dumb. Even if she sees anything, she cannae speak it.”

32

Isla’s terror had subsided now, but her pulse still raced as she lay beside Jack on the bed. Hours had passed since they reached this inn, but it seemed like it was a slow night, and the morrow was far away.

She sighed and rolled to her side so she could face Jack. “Jack?” she called in shaky voice, fearing he was asleep, but he was not. He turned to her and murmured before touching her face.

“Your thoughts are troubled,” he said to her.

Isla nodded. “The guard with us disappeared. He must have been the one to betray you,” she said.

“I ken,” he answered. “I saw him while we danced, but by the time we entered the tent, I had lost track of him. Ye neednae worry about this. I will find out who is responsible for this. Ye must however find the gypsy again tomorrow and return to yer time as planned. There is nae—”

Isla pressed a finger to his lips to stop him from saying more.

“I know what I must do,” she said in a light tone. Her words shook with every emotion she felt, and her skin shivered just from touching his lips.

“I do not wish to think of it tonight.”

“Isla—”

“I want one night with you, Jack. His gaze held hers as she tried to gather her courage from deep inside to tell him what she felt in the moment.

Desire was like molten lava slowly flooding her. She could feel it pulse in her veins and the sweet spot between her legs. That one night they shared in his chamber was unforgettable. Isla wanted to such pleasure again.

One more time.

“Make love to me, Jack,” she whispered. Her strained voice sounded hoarse. Her cheeks flamed and so did the rest of her. “Take me tonight.”

He froze, and didn’t move, so she did and pressed her lips to his for a kiss. Jack took control after that. His kiss ignited a spark. Something powerful and energetic surged inside her as she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck.

This is it,Isla thought as she let herself go. She closed her eyes and let him take the lead. His hands gently lowered her to the bed, and his body laid over hers until she felt the heat of his skin and the hardness in his kilt all press into her at once.

He tasted delicious, better than any tea or wine Isla had tasted. His tongue swept over hers in a sleek dance that made her blood hum. It was a slow, sensual dance that led to tremors. None of it was as tantalizing as the feel of his hand slowly moving up her torso to the swell of her breast.


Tags: Maddie MacKenna Historical