Dragon's Moon (15 page)

She blushed so brightly, it nearly hid the remaining bruises on her face. “That is not what I meant. I never thought…You wouldn't want…I'm ugly with bruises…You…”

The diminutive human woman was charming and much too desirable when she got flustered. Lais found himself smiling despite having to fight an internal battle of lust. “You are safe in my company.”

“I never doubted it, but that is not the point.”

“What is the point then, little one?” Her trust in him was an even stronger aphrodisiac than her beauty.

He needed to draw a breath not infused so strongly with her scent. He stood and went to his table, gathering herbs and cloths for treating her.

“My name is Mairi.”

“Is
that
the point?” He could not stop himself teasing as he placed the things he'd gathered beside the bowl of water.

“Of course not.”

In better control of his desires, Lais arranged her more carefully on the furs so there was no undue pressure on any of the areas that would be giving her the most pain. He had to fight from turning each touch into a caress and was proud of himself when he managed it.

Her breathing turned shallow and she closed her eyes, two spots of color burning high on her cheeks.

“Did I hurt you?” He had tried not to.

“No.”

“What ails you then?” But his eager senses told him before she opened her mouth.

Mairi had been excited by his touch.

She fisted her hands in the skirt of her plaid. “You are very close.” Her voice was laced with accusation.

“I can hardly heal you from across the room.”

“I did not expect you could.” Her eyes snapped open, their blue depths reflecting a message he did his best to ignore. “I just…you
are
close and it feels strange.”

“Aye.” Pretending ignorance to her might spare her feelings, but it would not change the truth between them.

“For you, too?” she asked in surprise.

He shrugged, no intention of answering that question or what it implied. If she could not see the way his kilt was starting to tent from his arousal, he certainly wasn't going to point it out. He had never been attracted to a patient before, but the night prior had been the first time that healing someone had made him ache with the need for sex.

He would be ashamed of his reaction, only he knew his eagle wanted to claim this human as their mate.

Lais's reaction to Mairi was inevitable.

“Why do I feel so drawn to you?” Her features were pale with pain, but a confused desire burned in her sky gaze.

“You are my patient.”

“It is more than that. With my father's view on how to deal with his frustrations at my lack, you can believe I have
spent much time with the MacLeod healer. I was never so drawn to her. I was grateful to her, but never felt the odd sensations I do with you.”

He laughed, Mairi's naïveté sweetly amusing.

“You are amused because you do not think I realize this is a man-woman thing,” Mairi said quietly. “But I don't feel drawn to the others this way, either.”

“Others?” he asked, knowing he would regret doing so.

“Your prince, the laird, that big blond warrior who looks ready to kill at a moment's notice.”

He'd never heard Niall described as such, but close enough to it that Lais smiled. “He is a great warrior, but would not harm you.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“You are one that likes the last word,” she accused.

The pain never quite leaving her face reminded him he might need his amber stone for this healing session.

He got up and retrieved it from the box. “You are one that likes to talk a lot.”

“It is true.” She didn't sound too happy about Lais's observation though. “My father finds it most annoying.”

“I do not.” He knelt beside her again, laying the amber stone near her head, his fingers touching her golden hair.

'Twas all he could do not to bury his fingers in the silken strands. But everything about her intoxicated him with more potency than well-aged whiskey. Her scent, so feminine and so right, teased at his nostrils and he could not help taking a deep breath to feed his eagle's need.

It was a mistake and he realized that immediately, but not soon enough to prevent the shudder of his body as his craving for the MacLeod woman grew.

Were she not yet so painfully wounded, he would not be able to subdue his need for her. Of that he was certain.

Perhaps the Sinclair had been right to question Lais's control, if not his honor.

“I'm glad,” she said softly. “I do not wish to give you a disgust of me.”

“'Tis not possible. You have shown great determination and courage, I can do naught but admire you.” And want her with a hunger he doubted even Eirik's dragon could match.

She said nothing as Lais bathed her feet with herb-infused water that would keep away infection from the few scratches that remained. They had been torn and battered the night before and he'd started his healing there, unaware far more serious wounds awaited his Chrechte touch.

“So, why am I so drawn to you and not the others?”

“I told you, I am your healer. You feel my power working inside you. It draws you to me.” 'Twas a good excuse if wholly spurious.

“So, you are not drawn to me?”

“You are daring in your speech for an innocent maid.”

“Only with you. I hid from the man my father chose to wed me as much as possible and only spoke to him when I could not avoid it.”

For a woman who liked to talk as much as his Mairi, that said much about her feelings for the man her father had chosen for her. Lais's eagle had his own opinion of said warrior and a bloodthirsty way of dealing with him in mind.

“You are spoken for?” he asked her in a tone made hard by his dislike of the possibility.

“Am I truly the Sinclair's ward?”

The Sinclair had given her sanctuary, but today, he had given her more…he had given her a place in his family. “He said it. It is so.”

“Then…no.”

“Explain.”

“My father promised my hand without my consent.”

“'Tis not uncommon, particularly for a laird's daughter.” Though a man whose habits led to his daughter spending time with their clan's healer was not one who would choose carefully for her prospective mate.

“But if I am no longer under his authority, then his promise on my behalf is no longer binding. Since I never agreed to it, I am not bound by my own words, either.” She shivered. “And it is a good thing, too. The man has too many of my father's traits.”

“He would have beaten you?” Lais asked, fury toward this unknown clansman growing inside him. “Is he Chrechte?”

The Macleod clan had an illness that needed Niall's skills rather than Lais's to heal.

“Yes, though he is not a very strong wolf.”

“Even a weak wolf is much stronger than most humans.”

“Yes.” She turned her head away. “He
did
beat me. Not all of these bruises are from my father's fists.”

Eirik had told Lais through the royal Éan mind link last night that Mairi had been beaten by her father and was in need of healing, but to hear it from her own lips was worse than a kick to Lais's gut.

“Why?” Not that the why mattered because naught could ever justify such cruel cowardice, but Lais felt the need to understand as much about this human woman as possible.

Even if he would never claim her for mate, she would always be important to him. He had been given a new life among his brethren, but he knew he did not deserve it. He would never ask a wife to take on a warrior with such a compromised past.

No matter how much his eagle craved the touch of this woman. She was a patient and she could never be anything else.

Nevertheless, Lais would do his best to protect her from this point forward. Understanding how she came to be here was a necessary step toward doing that.

“I ran away the night before I was supposed to wed Ualraig.” Mairi's eyes pleaded for understanding. “I could not bear the thought of marriage to a man so like my father. Ualraig was only willing to take me as his wife because he was sure I was not his true mate and he could still share his seed with a femwolf, given the opportunity.”

“How do you know this?”

“He told me.”

Lais cursed. No wonder she avoided conversing with the bastard. “They found you.”

“They are Chrechte. Of course they did, but I'd gotten almost to the northern border of our land.” She sounded proud of that fact and she should.

To have eluded her Chrechte hunters that long was indeed an accomplishment.

“How did you get away the second time?” And manage to make it all the way to Sinclair land on this occasion as well.

“They left me for dead.” She took a deep breath and let it out, her distress still all too apparent to his senses. “I woke to so much pain and realized if I did not go, I would die exactly as they intended. I knew of an old warrior who lived on the border of our land, ostensibly to protect it, but really my father did not like him.”

“He helped you?”

“After a fashion. I stole his horse.”

“You did not have a horse when Ciara found you.”

“No. I sent him back the way we came. He was a smart horse, he's no doubt home by now.”

That explained her ability to make it so far, but not how she had done so undetected.

“So, your father believes you are dead?”

“I do not think so, not by now.”

“What do you mean?”

“They would have gone back for my body, after the wild animals got to it.”

The MacLeod laird's evil was even worse than Lais had first thought. Even a laird could not admit to killing his own daughter. So, he had taken measures to make sure he was not accused of doing so.

“They meant to make it look like wild animals had gotten you when you ran away,” Lais said with disgust, his stomach rolling at the thought. “You were still alive when they left you. A Chrechte would have known.”

“Yes.”

And still the two vicious bastards had left her so hurt she would not have been able to protect herself from a piglet, much less a wild boar. “Evil.”

“Yes.”

“But you were not so fragile as they thought and you were clever enough to make your way here.” He let the admiration he felt sound in his voice.

She deserved it.

“I was already very close. I think my father hoped to blame my death on another clan, so he left me where he and his soldier found me near the border of MacLeod land.”

“You outwitted him.”

“I did, but if Ciara had not found me last night, I do not think I would have survived to the morning.”

Lais knew she wouldn't have. “But you did.”

“Yes and in the end, that is all that matters.”

No, her father's perfidy and cruelty had to be addressed, but not now and not by her.

He began to remove Mairi's plaid.

She grabbed at the fabric, tugging it close to her. “What are you doing?”

“I need to see what I can of your injuries.”

He had no choice but to use his inner sight for her internal injuries and bones. Though it used much more of his power and exhausted him in the process. He could not waste his energy trying to
see
through her plaid for her modesty's sake.

“But I can't be unclothed in your presence.” She swallowed, looking and smelling very nervous all of a sudden. “It would not be right.”

“I am a healer,” he said with exasperation.

“Are you saying you've seen scores of women without their clothing so you could heal them?” she demanded, sounding riled at the thought.

He did not bother to dignify that ridiculousness with an answer. He simply tugged at the plaid she grasped so tightly.

Refusing to let go, she shook her head.

“Our Chrechte gifts do not come without cost,” he told her.

“What does that have to do with you undressing me?”

“You could undress yourself, but your ribs are still too tender to allow you to lift your arms easily.”

“You are going off topic again.”

He would have smiled at her testiness, but this was not an argument he could give in on. “I only have so much strength to heal with my Chrechte gift before I will need sleep and time before attempting to heal you further.”

“So?”

“So, if I waste my power to protect your modesty, I will not be able to effect a change on your more serious wounds.”

“What do you mean waste your power?”

“I have to see your wound to heal it. Doing so with my eyes allows me to focus my energies on the healing rather than the seeing.”

“But last night—”

“I made the mistake of protecting your modesty and used my energy to
see
your wounds without taking off your clothing.” After he had already wasted too much working on the superficial wounds on her feet and face that had been obvious even in the moonlight.

“But you helped so much.”

“And have a lot more to do to make you well. I am not even certain I saw all your internal injuries last night.” By the time he'd realized how very damaged she really was, Lais had half exhausted himself trying to see her bruises under the clothes.

“You can see through my clothes?” she asked in shock.

“Nay. 'Tis not like that. Part of my gift is the ability to sense or
see
the injury, but if I use my strength to do that, then I have less available to heal what I find with my mind's eye,” he tried explaining again.

'Twas not as if he could see the creamy curves of her skin, but the injuries called to his inner sight and he
understood
what they were and what needed to happen to heal them.

“You are not just going to remove my dress, are you?”