To Tame A Warrior's Heart

“Don’t patronize me.” She jerked away from the comforting warmth of his hand, wincing as the movement pulled 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 that honor mine alone?”

She wished she could look away, but she refused to permit herself that act of cowardice.

Yet she could not still her tongue. “You flatter yourself.” She felt his pulse quicken.

“Do I? Since we first met you’ve drawn my attention, Catrin. Whether you meant to or not—for good or ill.”

“I don’t even like you,” she whispered. Her own heart thrummed faster—in fear?

“Nor I you.” Talbot bent close, until his lips brushed her cheek.

His touch caused a strange pang in her stomach. Her mouth dry, she forced her eyes closed to free herself from his gaze.

It made no difference.

If she never saw him again, his face would remain etched upon her mind.

Nicholas eased her hand from his chest and rested it beside her flushed cheek. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself forcing his attentions upon her, her injuries be damned. With a curse, he wrenched his gaze from Catrin’s delicate features and sought to slow his racing heart.

He rose to his feet and turned away from her, lest his body betray him. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “After I take care of the dog, I’ll go out and find food.”

“I’m thirsty,” she replied, looking as if food mattered not a whit

Nicholas all but gnashed his teeth as a familiar tide of frustration swept over him.

The woman had pride enough for God Himself!

’Twas a stupid question he’d asked, at any rate. Since asking her anything had never earned him an answer, he’d do better to simply care for her as he would any stranger, and save himself the aggravation of treating her as though there had ever been—or ever could be—anything more between them.

He tightened the bandage about his arm, the twinge of pain a welcome distraction from the fire raging through his blood, and hastened from the cave.

For once he savored the chill bite of the air against his sweaty chest. He filled the dishes at the stream, then immersed his head in the icy water. His skull felt as if it had been clubbed with a battering ram, although his vision remained clear this morning.

When he returned to the cave, he mixed more of Catrin’s medicinal powder with the water in the cup. She lay sprawled on her stomach as he’d left her, her head resting upon her folded arms, her eyes closed. He placed his hand on her shoulder lest he startle her, waiting until she opened her eyes before raising her from the pallet and bringing the cup to her lips.