Gifts of Desire (29 page)

             
“She’s mine, now,
MacKenzie
”, he said in a low voice.  “I
’ll have her in my bed this
very
night.”

Those
taunting
words were his downfall. 
Ceann
reacted with a vicious strength, growling in rage as he flew forward, knocking the other man’s sword out of his hand, and kicking him to the ground in the same motion.  He stood over him, his sword point resting against his chest.

             
“No, I don’t think so
”, he said
between harsh breaths
.

             
His mind barely registered the wild cheering of the crowd as he walked from the field, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. 
He
turned from McInnes and
walked
straight back to his own tent,
ignoring everyone in his path.  H
e sat
down on a stool
and began
methodically
cleaning his sword
, as he had a thousand times before
.
  The simple action always helped to calm him after a fight.

  He had won. 
Ella
was still his.  Only she wasn’t his at all.  He had felt, for a fleeting second as he stood over McInnes in victory, that he had actually won her, that
he
would
be the one to
have
her
in his
bed that night.  But nothing had changed, other than he had kept her safe.
  Perhaps he had erred in spreading word of holding a beautiful lass at Tulloch, when he had been trying to find her kin, when he had wanted to be rid of her and any threat she might have brought to his
uncomplicated
existence.  He wasn’t so sure anymore that he wanted to be rid of her.  Hell, he wasn’t sure of anything right now.

             
Ella sat enthralled while Ceann fought for her.  Something primitive fired in her blood, something ancient and deeply feminine that thrilled at watching all of that masculine muscle and brawn.  A powerful man, a warrior, a warlord, fighting for
her
.  A part of her had imagined that after he won, he would come to her and carry her off to…  She startled as Ethan came up behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

             
“A word, milady
?”

             
He had a mischievous glint in his eye, but she rose and followed him anyway.  “Now is when the fair maiden goes to tend her champion’s wounds”, he told her.

             
“What?”

             
“Have you never heard a chivalrous tale?  The hero is always hurt in a great battle, and the fair maiden always tends his wounds for him.  Then they fall in love and live happily ever after.”

             
“I’m quite sure Ceann doesn’t want me near his wounds, Ethan.”

             
Ethan only shrugged.  “The man is so damned stubborn he would likely starve hims
elf if he got the notion he di
dn’
t deserve
food
.”

             
“You’re not making sense.  Ceann wouldn’t starve himself, and he doesn’t want me near him.  Tending wounds or otherwise.”

             
Ethan shook his head, his lips pressed together in a grim line.  “He may not starve his body, but he starves his heart.  Hell, but I hate to see him do it; he’s a good man, Ella.”

             
She sighed.  “I know he is.  I’ll see to his wound
.”

             
“And?”

             
“And what?”

             
“
Show him that he doesn’t need to be alone.”

             
“Ethan, I…”

             
“Try.  I’ve known Ceann all my life.  He has a formidable will,
true,
but he can’t hold out forever, at least not where you’re concerned.  He has tender feelings for you lass, I’m sure of it.  And you for him…aye?”

             
“Aye”, she admitted
.  “Though I would confess it to no one but you, Ethan.”

             
“Go.  Torment the Laird of Self-Control a bit more with your presence.  Break him down.”  Ethan grinned and gave her a gentle push at the small of her back.  “Nay, bring him to his knees, lass, to his very knees.”

             
Ceann
looked up suddenly when the tent flap
opened.  His heart stopped for an instant and then began thudding painfully against his chest. 
Ella
came in
carrying
a small basket.  She smiled at him
, and he scowled.
  Her hair was pulled up into a knot at the back of her head, and he could see the fine bones of her jaw, and the delicate curve of her ear
, the tender skin of her neck
.

             
“Ethan told
me I should come tend
your
wound”.  Her mouth turned
up
slightly
at the corners.  “He said
you
’d be too stubborn to tend it yourself and it would fester.  And he said a few o
t
her unflattering things as well,
which
I won’t
repeat
.”

             
She
put the basket down and reached
for his arm.  He pulled it away.

             
“I’m fine.”

             
“
You’re
not fine,
you’re
still
bleeding.  Let me see it.”

             
“No, it’s only a scratch, Ella.
  Leave me be.”

             
She glared at him.  He was acting
like an insolent child
, for God’s sake
.  “Either you remove your shirt and let me tend to that wound or I will…”
A wicked idea popped into her head.  “I will
kiss
you
, Laird MacKenzie
.”

             
She gave him a smug look and crossed her arms, amused as his eyes widened as if in fear and he begrudgingly pulled his shirt over his head, looking at her all the while as if she may decide to bite him instead.
  She bit her bottom lip and gave a little sigh.  It was perhaps less than flattering that the very threat of her kiss was enough to bend him to her will as if she he
ld a dagger to his throat
.
 

             
“Thank
you
,
”
she said
dryly
.
  She took hold of his arm and examined the wound. 
His
flesh
was
rock hard under her hand, the skin smooth and warm, stretched
taut
over solid muscle. 
“It isn’t
too deep, but it needs to be stitched
.  I
’ll
have to clean it first.”  She
reached for a flask of whiskey, and before he could protest, she poured some over the wound.  He flinched, but did not make a sound.  She took a strip of linen from her basket
, soaked it in more whiskey,
and dabbed the blood away.  Then she took out her needle and thread, and m
oved to stand between his legs, where she could get the proper angle
with her right hand,
while not blocking the light.
 
And, she had to admit, it may
also
have had a bit to do with Ethan’s words. 
She felt him tense, and thought his breath quickened
just a little
.
  She pressed her thigh lightly against his
, a subtle gesture, but effective none-the-less
.  “Am I hurting you?”

             
“No.  Hurry and be done with it.” 

             
His voice was deeper, huskier than before.
 
What
would
it take to bring him to his knees? 
She fought to keep her own breathing steady as she carefully stitched, trying hard not to hurt him too much.  It had frightened her more than she wanted to admit to see him fight like that, to see him injured, even if not
badly
. 
To a seasoned warrior like Ceann, the wound she now stitched was probably akin to a scratch.  The many scars that covered his body were testament to that.  She didn’t want him to be hurt, but still, h
e fought beautifully, with the grace
and strength
of a l
ion.  It had stirred something primitive in her
blood, to see him
in
battle, and now, to touch his sweat dampened skin and tend his wound.  It felt almost…
familiar, as if she had d
one so before, somewhere, sometime.
  She finished the last stitch and bent over to bite off the thread.  She heard him suck in a breath, and let it out with a
slight
sob.  She turned to him.

             
“Did I hurt
you
?” she asked, concerned.

             
“No
”, he bit out.  But his expression was tight, as if he were in pain.  “Leave me…
now
.”

             
She threw him a look.  “As you wi
sh, you ungrateful
…
boor
.  J
ust
let me
bi
nd your arm
and I’ll be gone
from your sight
.
 
But
,
”
she went on, “t
hank
you
for figh
ting for me.  Though I wouldn’t
have gone
anywhere near that hateful man, whether you willed it or no.
”

             
He did not reply. 
She dabbed more whiskey on the stitched wound, then carefully wrapped it with a linen strip.  Packing up her things, she went to the opening of the tent and turned
to look back.

             
“Good day, Laird.
”

             
Ceann
let out the breath he had been holding.  Maybe it was the excitement of the battle, he didn’t know, but he had just barely held himself back from taking her,
again
, and that while she was plying a needle to his damn
ed
arm
.  The next time he just may lose this battle with his will.  When she had stood betw
een his thighs to stitch the cut
, he had felt pain only in his groi
n. 
The way his body roused to hers, the mere scent of her was enough
to make his heart race and his cock rock-hard. 
He groaned.  It
throbbed
still.
Jesu
,
the wound was minor, but
he
still
wasn’t sure he would survive
the night
.
  Perhaps Ethan was right after all.  Perhaps he should just take her and be done with it, to hell with the consequences.  And if he was forced into marriage with her, would that be so bad?  No, in truth he would gladly take her as his wife, if it should come to that. 

             
That night, there was a
wild
celebration
around a huge bonfire, the likes
of which would have to last many
of the clans until the next year.  There was feasting and music and the ale and wine flowed freely. 
Ella
, as caught up in the magic as anyone else, danced around the fire with the other young women, the thud of the drums making her own heart beat faster. 
They had bonfires and dancing at home too, but somehow this seemed different, better. 
In the flickering light, nothing seemed quite real, and everything was just a bit magical. 
She grabbed Mairi’s hand as she came by and they swung around, laughing, turning to dance in the other direction.
 
Ella
could feel
Ceann
’s eyes on her, watching her every move. 
She knew exactly where he stood; was so aware of him that she would have known immediately had he walked away
, or come closer.
 
He did not dance, or even speak to anyone, he just watched
, arms folded across his chest
in a way
that clearly showed the thick muscles of his arms
. 
He had not so much as sp
oken to her since she had tended his wound
, but for tonight, she didn’t care.  If he wanted to torture himself for awhile, let him.   She was having
more fun than she could remember.  In such a short time, and under the strangest of circumstances, these people had become like family to her, a
n extended
family she had never had before.  And just for tonight,
with the future still uncertain,
she wanted to pretend to belong here.