Read Online Highlander's Touch by Eliza Knight - Free Book Online Page A

and soft.
    Shona muttered “broth,” and whirled on her heel.
    She crossed the tiny one-room cottage, swigging the whisky as she went. Ah, a lass who could drink like a man. That made him smile. She set the jug a little too hard onto the shelf and several of the other containers there clanked together. Her hands flew up as she scrambled to keep them all from falling.
    Ewan couldn’t help but smile. She was delectable. And damned seductive.
    He sighed. Then frowned. The whisky on an empty belly was making him act a fool. He needed to compose himself.
    “Ye’ve still not told me where I am,” he said. From when he’d glanced out the window, he determined he was in the middle of nowhere. Castle Gealach could have been five or five hundred.
    Shona peeked over at him, a coy look on her face and her shoulder shrugged, teasing. “In the woods.”
    The wench was toying with him. “I gathered that from the look of things outside.”
    “Did ye go out the door?” Her gaze darted toward the exit. She sounded surprised, concerned, filled with fear. He watched her hurry to make sure the bar on the door was secure and then she checked the windows, too.
    What was this lass about?
    “Nay. I made use of your windows.”
    She let out a great sigh of relief.
    “What is out there? Who is out there?” he asked, curiosity filling him. “How did ye get me here, if ye saved me as ye say?”
    Shona shook her head. “There is no one, yet. Your horse helped me.”
    “Bhaltair?”
    “Aye. He’s in the barn.” She flicked her gaze toward the door, biting her lip, then turned back to her task.
    “Is he well?”
    A short laugh escaped her. “Aye, he is well. And well trained by ye, too. I’d not have been able to save ye without him, ye know.”
    “He is a good horse. Have ye an extra carrot or two to spoil him with?”
    She smiled. “He’s been spoiled plenty.”
    “Thank ye.”
    “Ye’ve no need to thank me.”
    “Aye, but I do. ’Tis not everyday a lass saves me in the wood.”
    “’Haps not.”
    “Ye said no one is outside yet . Who is coming?” Beautiful women did not live alone.
    The lass had an obvious habit of licking her lip when she was nervous—and she was doing it now.
    Shona walked forward with a bowl full of broth, setting it down to prop up his pillows. “No one we want. Do ye think ye can manage or shall I feed it to ye?”
    He rather liked the sound of her feeding him, but he suspected she’d think him a completely weak fool. Already he lay wounded, dizzy, and out of sorts within her home.
    Ewan took the offered bowl and brought it to his lips. As the warm broth slid down his throat, he closed his eyes in enjoyment. ’Twas the best tasting thing to ever cross his tongue. Though he suspected starving and drunk on whisky, desire and the fever that heated his blood, he might think a pile of dirt tasted heavenly.
    “Sip it slowly,” she said.
    Ewan studied her over the bowl as he drank. Her fiery-colored hair was plaited, but stray locks had escaped in unruly waves around her face. Her skin was smooth, free of wrinkles. Eyes the color of almonds. She watched him watching her, her lips in a flat straight line.
    “What are ye thinking?” he asked.
    Shona looked taken aback. “I’m thinking of naught.”
    “Ye lie.” He said it quietly as he scrutinized her through the whisky haze.
    She took a step back as though she’d been slapped. “How dare ye accuse me of lying after I’ve taken care of your wounds and kept ye safe. I fed ye from my own pot.”
    Ewan shook his head and smiled, imploring her with a hand to come closer. “Ye mistake my meaning, lass. I’m not calling ye a liar, but merely that ye didna tell me the truth.”
    She stayed rooted in her spot. “Are they not one and the same?”
    “Nay, they are not.”
    “I disagree.” Shona crossed her arms over her chest.
    Their banter only made Ewan smile wider. “I disagree with your disagreement.”
    Shona huffed and turned away from him.