Temptation in a Kilt Read Online Free PDF Page B

her tunic. He walked over to his mount and returned with a sack. Sitting down, he dumped the contents in front of her. “I donna believe anything is broke now, but ye do have bruised ribs.” He ripped pieces of cloth into sections. “Binding will help the pain.”
    It was apparent he had done this many times before. She continued to study him and stare at his broad shoulders and the corded muscles on his frame. He was much bigger than she remembered him being. What was the matter with her? She was injured. He just reminded her of James. Sure, that was it. Even though James never seemed to make her breath quicken when he glanced at her. Then again, perhaps it was the pain in her ribs. She wondered if she’d hit her head.
    “Where are your men?” she asked, glancing around the small clearing.
    “They are around. They will return when I call for them.” He grabbed the strips of cloth and gently lifted her tunic. “Are ye able to hold it up?”
    “Aye,” she grunted. He wrapped the strips of cloth around her and bound her ribs, tying off the strips. For someone who was so incredibly large, his touch was surprisingly gentle.
    “That should help the pain in your ribs, and this should help the pain in your face,” he said, holding up a salve. “May I?”
    “Aye.” She felt the heat rise in her face. Thankfully, the color was masked by the bruising—at least, she hoped it was. He applied the salve to her bruises and seemed naturally kind. She would be sure to thank him before she took her leave.
    “There, all finished.” The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. He gathered up the remainder of the supplies and bundled them back on his horse. Returning with a wine sack, he sat down beside her and offered her a drink. “Do ye think ye can ride, Rosalia?”
    She choked. This was not wine. It was… stronger, and it burned her insides.
    “Careful. ’Tis my own ale.”
    Plagued with a coughing fit, she felt like her throat was on fire. She hastily handed him back the wine sack and he repeated his question. “Aye, I can ride. I thank ye for seeing to my injuries, my lair—”
    “Ciaran,” he simply stated.
    “Ciaran. Ye and your men have my thanks.” She tried to smile, but her lip cracked open. Instinctively, she raised her hand and placed her finger to her sore lip.
    “It will heal with time.” He hesitated, measuring her for a moment. “Rosalia, I must know. Is your husband giving chase?”
    “Husband?” Her voice unintentionally went up a notch. “I donna have a husband. I am nae wed.” Why would he ask if she had a husband?
    A strange look crossed his features before he quickly masked it. “If ye arenae wed, then who did this to ye, lass?”
    Lowering her head, she stared at her hands. “Again. I must thank ye for caring for me, but donna let me keep ye from your journey. I am sure ye and your men wish to return home. Mòran taing. ” Thank you very much.
    ***
    “Mòran taing?”
    Did she think he would honestly leave her here to fend for herself? Maybe he should. That would surely teach her a lesson. Did she not realize the dangers of traveling alone? If she were his sister or even his wife, he would throttle her. He briefly wondered where that idea came from. No matter, he would take her to the next village and see to it she received care.
    Her sudden, jerky movements pulled him from his thoughts.
    “I havenae had an opportunity… What I mean to say is… I need a moment to…” Her flush deepened to crimson and she looked away from him.
    “What?” Ciaran realized from her actions what she was trying to convey. He stood and held out his hand. “Let me help ye up. Can ye walk?”
    “Slowly, but I can walk.” Taking his hand, she stood and held her ribs. Unsteady on her feet, she took a step back. He caught her by the elbow to assist her and she waved him off. “Nay, please. I can do it myself.”
    He watched her take unsteady steps into the trees. When he’d lifted her