Page 87 of My Brave Highlander

"I thank you."

Aiden bid him goodnight and left. Erskine retreated to the corridor and closed the door.

Still wondering what the healer had implied about why she was helping him, Isobel let her gaze roam over Dirk. She was startled to find him watching her.

She moved forward and placed her hand along the side of his bristly cheek. His skin still wasn't back to a normal temperature but it was warmer than before. "Are you still cold?"

"Nay. I thank you for warming me. I daresay no one else in the clan would've done what you did. Nor would I want them to."

"But you didn't mind if I shared my body heat?" she asked.

He gave a brief laugh, then snapped his eyes closed tight with a grunt as if the laugh had caused him pain. "Nay. Your warmth was like paradise. I didn't realize how cold I was."

Isobel should've been embarrassed but she wasn't. Besides, she hadn't been naked. She wasn't terribly scandalous. "'Twas a matter of necessity. I did not wish you to freeze to death."

"I'm not that tender." He touched the injury on his forehead, then frowned.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Not much. Damned McMurdo."

"You ordered the men to lock him in the dungeon?"

"Aye. I can hardly wait to question the bastard."

She took the cloth from the wooden bowl of warm water the maid had brought and dabbed at the blood remaining on his forehead. "I'll clean it gently and hopefully it won't start bleeding again. The healer said you wouldn't need stitches." It was mainly a bruise rather than a cut.

Dirk grunted and his eyes slid closed as if he were greatly relaxed. He didn't move while she washed the blood away from his head and his hair. His breathing grew deep as if he might have fallen asleep. What on earth had been in the herbal tisane?

He murmured words she couldn't understand as if talking in his sleep. Her maid told her she did that all the time.

"Aye, you must sleep and heal, mo chridhe." She kissed the side of his forehead, away from the wound. Goodness, now he felt much hotter. Surely he was not coming down with a fever. She pressed her lips against his skin again, more to check his temperature than to kiss him, but 'twas a good excuse to do just that.

"Mmm," he murmured along with more mumbled words, as if rousing again, and opened his eyes a crack. With a hand on her arm, he tugged her to him.

She let out a squeak of surprise. "I thought you were going to sleep. What are you doing? Dirk?"

"Aye," he whispered and drew her closer still. With a slight grin, he lifted his head and kissed her lips. Surely he was not yet recovered enough for this. But… Mmm. He tasted of virile male, whisky, and minty herbal tea. She could happily devour him, but this was bad timing.

"Dirk?" she said between his insistent kisses. "Do you even know who I am?"

"Mmm-hmm." He pulled her fully onto the bed beside him and rolled half on top of her. "My sweet Isobel." His kisses grew more demanding and passionate. More intoxicating. Even if she could stop him, she wouldn't want to.

My sweet Isobel? Not only did he know her name, he was calling her his. Was he in the grasp of a fevered dream? Had the herbal tea drugged him? Or was this a continuation of what they'd begun earlier in the night? Either way, she couldn't resist his heated, delectable mouth.

Sliding his hand down her back to her derrière, he drew her tight against his lower body. Having undressed him, she knew he was naked beneath the covers. Now, his erect member prodded against her lower belly. It was an entrancing and compelling feeling that made her want to draw even closer.

She knew little about men's bodies and had only seen a glimpse of one naked. She and her former husband had always slept in a darkened or dimly lit room. Nor did she truly know what an erect member felt like, skin to skin. She could find out now, if she was bold enough. Gathering her courage, she ran her hand down over the sculpted muscles and dusting of hair on Dirk's bare chest and stomach, beneath the covers and stroked her fingertips along his shaft, which felt as fevered as his head had moments ago. But even more fascinating, his member was hard as a wood timber, but the skin smooth and silky. Her instincts awoke and her body quickened at the feeling of his. Taking him within her hand, she squeezed, testing his hardness. Amazing.

He growled. "Isobel?"

"Aye."

"Ache for you," he breathed in a passionate tone between kisses.

Her heart fluttered like butterfly wings and tears rushed to her eyes. He wanted her, and somehow she knew it wasn't simply physical.

At least she hoped he'd wanted her as long as she'd been wanting him.