Page 24 of Bound to a Warrior
“I lost my hold and my footing,” he said, blaming himself.
“You kept hold of me though.” Another shudder racked her body.
His arms tightened around her. “Since we’re already shackled together it was the wisest action to take.”
She shook her head, though it remained resting against his chest. “No, you didn’t have time to think, only react. And it was to protect me.”
He slipped his finger under her chin and with a little tug had her looking up at him. “Know well, Mercy, that I will protect you whether or not we are shackled together. I will always be there for you.”
“Your chivalry is showing again,” she smiled softly.
“That is your fault,” he teased.
“How so?”
“You constantly put me in situations where I have no other choice.”
“I’m not the only one who puts us there,” she reminded with a poke to his chest and he winced.
“You’re hurt,” she said sitting up, her hands rushing to spread open his shirt. She grimaced as soon as she caught sight of a large bruise beginning to form on the side of his chest just below his nipple. And it looked as if it deepened in color as she stared at it.
She reached out and with delicate strokes ran her fingers over the darkening wound, accidentally brushing his nipple with her inquisitive touch.
He jerked, his body stiffening and she was quick to apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He took her hand in his and eased it away. “Better to leave it to mend.”
“You will rest,” she ordered and moved away only to wince herself.
She immediately pulled up her blouse to search for the painful spot. She cupped her full breast, flinching as she squeezed and forced her plump bosom up so that she could examine the damage beneath.
“Does it look bad?” she asked, unable to see all of it.
His hand reached out, but retreated before he touched the tender spot. “It’s not that large and the color has yet to deepen.”
She let the blouse fall back in place and turned a worried glance on him. “Do you have pain elsewhere?”
“I’m fine,” he reassured her and reached to pick a few twigs from her dark hair. “And you?”
She tended to him as naturally as he did her, brushing dirt and debris off his shoulders and plucking twigs from the ends of his long hair before answering, “A throb in my ankle, that’s all.”
With quick and deft hands, he lifted her skirt.
Though he assumed privileges meant only for a husband, that was the way of things for the moment. She had no choice. She hadn’t had a choice since she had taken the plunge off the cliff with him. That day that decision had not only physically bound them together, but had also forced them to start sharing some privileges meant only for husband and wife. So here she sat allowing him to lift her skirt and not at all upset by it.
“It doesn’t look bad. A small abrasion, that’s all,” Duncan said.
She smiled with relief. Happy that it is was nothing that would slow them down.
“Then let’s conquer that hill and be done with it,” she said, though hesitant to stand. “That is, if you feel up to it.”
He grabbed her elbow and hoisted them both up. “There you go challenging me again.”
“Are you up to it?” she asked.
He leaned his brow against hers. “I’m always up to it, woman.”
“Then let’s see how much fortitude you have.” She turned toward the hill, but he grabbed her arm and she looked back at him.
