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Authors: To Tame a Warrior's Heart
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considered his present injury a mere trifle.
He watched her while he prodded at his arm. “After I finished wrestling with you, I wanted nothing more thanto rest. It feels no worse now than it did then,” he added with a shrug. “Compared to your back, ’tis naught.”
Unwilling to bear the weight of his scrutiny, Catrin glanced away. She did not believe him, for she’d seen how his lips tightened when he poked at the shaft protruding from his arm.
Her heart sank further within her chest. How much suffering had she caused through yesterday’s foolhardiness?
He shouldn’t have ignored his own needs to tend to hers.
She rested her cheek on her folded arms and settled her gaze on his face once more. “What are you going to do?”
Talbot wasted no time with words; breathing deep, he pushed the shaft through his arm.
Now she understood why she’d left teeth marks in the glove—and why her throat felt so raw. Sweat beaded on the taut planes of his face, but he made no sound. She bit at her lip to stifle her own cry when the arrowhead broke through his flesh in a gush of blood.
He flung the arrow aside and mopped at the blood dripping from his arm. His lips twisted into a rueful grin. “That’s a relief,” he said, wiping his brow against his good arm.
The urge to smile in return died a swift death as she considered her own lack of control. “You didn’t even need a glove,” she muttered. Though he could not know it, the loathing in her voice was directed at herself, not him.
He tied a scrap of cloth about his arm, then slid closer. “This is but a trifle compared to your wound.” He reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm.
“Don’t patronize me.” She jerked away from the comforting warmth of his hand, wincing as the movementpulled at the stitches in her back. “Just untie me, if you please.”
That he dared to touch her should anger her. But ’twas her own reaction to him that fired her temper.
She liked the way it felt—and she should not.
Her gaze lowered, Catrin held out her wrists. The cool steel slipped between them, the well-honed blade slicing through the bonds in an instant. As soon as she was free she curled her hands close to her body to hide how they trembled.
Talbot touched her face again. “Be still. You’ve blood on your cheek.” His fingertips stroked along her cheekbone, then lingered there to hold her captive. With a sigh he bent so near that his breath feathered across her lips. “You believe I mock you?” He sat back and released her, then raised her hand to a large, puckered scar to the left of his collarbone and pressed her palm to the mark. “You’d have enjoyed how I screeched when I got this.”
Did he think her so heartless?
Was she?
’Twas possible, but…“Nay, milord. I take no pleasure from another’s pain.”
“Not even mine?” Amusement lit his eyes, and she felt laughter rumble beneath her hand. “You cannot deny your delight when that beast—” he nodded toward Idris “—pinned me to the muddy ground of l’Eau Clair bailey, his teeth at my throat.”
“’Twas your pride he hurt, nothing more. God knows you’ve an abundance of it”
As did she.
And she could not deny that a blow to her pride stung at least as much as a wound to her body.
The strong beat of his heart beneath her fingers jolted her. His warm skin felt far too good against her own.Closing her eyes to shut out his face, she tried to slip her hand free, but Talbot held it fast.
Did he seek to torment her?
Or did he enjoy her touch, as well?
“Aye, ’twas my pride he hurt, nothing more,” he said, his voice soft, beguiling her to watch him yet again. “Even as he held me pinned to the ground, I could appreciate your control over him. In that moment, you might have held my life in your hands.” His eyes darkened. “Is it a game you play, to show your disdain for men?” His fingers pressed hers tight against his heart and his gaze held hers captive. “Or is
He watched her while he prodded at his arm. “After I finished wrestling with you, I wanted nothing more thanto rest. It feels no worse now than it did then,” he added with a shrug. “Compared to your back, ’tis naught.”
Unwilling to bear the weight of his scrutiny, Catrin glanced away. She did not believe him, for she’d seen how his lips tightened when he poked at the shaft protruding from his arm.
Her heart sank further within her chest. How much suffering had she caused through yesterday’s foolhardiness?
He shouldn’t have ignored his own needs to tend to hers.
She rested her cheek on her folded arms and settled her gaze on his face once more. “What are you going to do?”
Talbot wasted no time with words; breathing deep, he pushed the shaft through his arm.
Now she understood why she’d left teeth marks in the glove—and why her throat felt so raw. Sweat beaded on the taut planes of his face, but he made no sound. She bit at her lip to stifle her own cry when the arrowhead broke through his flesh in a gush of blood.
He flung the arrow aside and mopped at the blood dripping from his arm. His lips twisted into a rueful grin. “That’s a relief,” he said, wiping his brow against his good arm.
The urge to smile in return died a swift death as she considered her own lack of control. “You didn’t even need a glove,” she muttered. Though he could not know it, the loathing in her voice was directed at herself, not him.
He tied a scrap of cloth about his arm, then slid closer. “This is but a trifle compared to your wound.” He reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm.
“Don’t patronize me.” She jerked away from the comforting warmth of his hand, wincing as the movementpulled at the stitches in her back. “Just untie me, if you please.”
That he dared to touch her should anger her. But ’twas her own reaction to him that fired her temper.
She liked the way it felt—and she should not.
Her gaze lowered, Catrin held out her wrists. The cool steel slipped between them, the well-honed blade slicing through the bonds in an instant. As soon as she was free she curled her hands close to her body to hide how they trembled.
Talbot touched her face again. “Be still. You’ve blood on your cheek.” His fingertips stroked along her cheekbone, then lingered there to hold her captive. With a sigh he bent so near that his breath feathered across her lips. “You believe I mock you?” He sat back and released her, then raised her hand to a large, puckered scar to the left of his collarbone and pressed her palm to the mark. “You’d have enjoyed how I screeched when I got this.”
Did he think her so heartless?
Was she?
’Twas possible, but…“Nay, milord. I take no pleasure from another’s pain.”
“Not even mine?” Amusement lit his eyes, and she felt laughter rumble beneath her hand. “You cannot deny your delight when that beast—” he nodded toward Idris “—pinned me to the muddy ground of l’Eau Clair bailey, his teeth at my throat.”
“’Twas your pride he hurt, nothing more. God knows you’ve an abundance of it”
As did she.
And she could not deny that a blow to her pride stung at least as much as a wound to her body.
The strong beat of his heart beneath her fingers jolted her. His warm skin felt far too good against her own.Closing her eyes to shut out his face, she tried to slip her hand free, but Talbot held it fast.
Did he seek to torment her?
Or did he enjoy her touch, as well?
“Aye, ’twas my pride he hurt, nothing more,” he said, his voice soft, beguiling her to watch him yet again. “Even as he held me pinned to the ground, I could appreciate your control over him. In that moment, you might have held my life in your hands.” His eyes darkened. “Is it a game you play, to show your disdain for men?” His fingers pressed hers tight against his heart and his gaze held hers captive. “Or is
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