by Amy Jarecki
Oh, did his touch have to feel so good? Her eyes fluttered back and she gave a wee moan. Akira couldn’t help but melt into the powerful warmth surrounding her. “I-I’ve never been so close to a man afore.”
Geordie’s warm breath skimmed her forehead. “Not your father?”
“I never knew my father.” She covered her mouth. Her sisters were sired by her stepfather, and then he’d left, too.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to pry.” He took her hand in his palm, his fingers rough and ever so much larger and more powerful than hers. Slowly he raised her hand to his lips, his gaze locked with hers. Then, as he closed his eyes, soft, pliant lips kissed the back of her hand. Not a quick peck, but a lingering kiss full of tenderness, reverence, and meaning, as if he knew his gesture spoke more than mere words—words that would be inappropriate given the brevity of their acquaintance.
Akira’s breathing quickened, and her heart thrummed a rhythm so fierce she feared the thundering beat might make him release her. But instead he drew her hand to his face and gently rubbed it across his stubbled cheek.
“Mayhap we should try to sleep,” he said, his voice deeper than before—and with a trace of hoarseness to it. And that voice made yearning swell inside her. An intense tug pulled on her heart, a sensation she’d never before experienced.
Sighing, Akira agreed, wondering how on earth she’d ever be able to close her eyes as long as Mr. Geordie was near.
* * *
Slumped to his side, Geordie awoke to the smell of wood smoke. A crackling fire warmed him. The only problem? Every muscle in his body was stiff as an iron rod. He pushed himself up and grunted at the needling pain in his leg. Would it never end? As he scrubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes, his neck stabbed him with a twinge. Nothing like sleeping on a bed of rock to make a man feel more tortured than Job.
He rubbed his neck, taking in a deep breath. Sunrays shone through the alcove. Akira had built a good fire, but she was nowhere in sight. Geordie leaned forward. Down below, the horse grazed like he hadn’t a care. A hunger pang rumbled in Geordie’s stomach for the first time since he’d been shot.
He pulled his kilt up high enough to examine the wound. His skin was red and mottled around a half-inch hole filled with greasy ointment. Though the flesh was warm to the touch, he didn’t see any pus. Bloody hell, it couldn’t heal fast enough. Stranded in the mountains, he’d need his wits for certain. If nothing else, Akira needed him to see her to safety. Of course, if he didn’t make it home soon, Oliver, his chief lieutenant and man-at-arms, would send out a search party. Then all of Scotland would be alerted that something was amiss. Christ, if the duchess caught wind of his disappearance, she’d probably cross the channel from Flanders while celebrating her good fortune.
It would be like Elizabeth to toast to my death afore they find my body.
“You’re awake.” Holding the water flask, Akira climbed under the shelf and kneeled beside him. “There’s a burn down below. The water is fresh.”
“My thanks.” He took a healthy drink and set it down.
Her black tresses swung forward and brushed his leg as she peered at his thigh. “How is your wound?”
Jesus, the tingling from the caress of her hair told him he could forget any amount of pain. “A bit better, I reckon.”
She fished in her satchel. “The locals say Ma’s ointment has magic.” Then she scoffed. “’Tis the only good thing they say about us.”
Geordie couldn’t imagine anyone saying a bad word about Akira. “Why is that?”
An adorable blush blossomed in her cheeks and she averted her eyes. “’Tis on account of our ancestry.”
He brushed the hair away from her face. “Gypsy ancestry?” He as much as anyone knew it was a dangerous question for her to answer. Gypsies and beggars had been outlawed for near a hundred years.
“No…er, aye.” She glanced up, anguish pulling on her lovely features. “You must swear not to tell anyone. Ma raised me to be a proper Scottish lass—no thieving, no trickery, and definitely no begging. But people are still afraid of us.”
“You and your mother?”
“Aye, and my younger sisters.” She applied the salve. “We keep to ourselves, and people leave us alone for the most part. Except…”
Geordie flexed his thigh against the sting. “Except?”
She turned her face away. “Och, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be telling you these things, else you’ll think me a tinker.” Then her back went ramrod straight as she snapped around and eyed him with a defiant stare. “And I’m not. I’m a respectable healer. People come from Perth to Pitlochry for my tinctures.”
Geordie’s heart squeezed as he brushed a finger over her cheek—silken like a newborn kitten. “I’m certain they do. You’re doing a fine job of healing me.” He could only imagine the hardship this lass had endured. She mightn’t know he was a duke, but he’d never felt so guilty about his life of privilege. Elizabeth’s words rattled in his head: “You cannot feed the world, George. Our lot in life is to increase our family’s wealth, not dole out coin to vagrants.”
Akira shrugged, pulling a bandage from the satchel. “I thank you. Honestly, hearing you say so means a great deal.”
He bent his knee slightly to allow her to wind the wrap beneath his leg. “And I owe you for my life,” he whispered.
“I prayed you would live.” She kept unraveling, not meeting his gaze. “I lost a patient to a musket ball wound not too long ago. But that injury shattered his knee and the physician couldn’t get the ball out.”
“How awful.”
“It was.” She tied the bandage. “That ought to do. Can you eat? We have the last of the bread and cheese.”
“You eat it, lass. I’m not hungry.” His stomach growled. Loudly.
“I think your stomach disagrees.” She grinned, her smile lighting up the alcove as if the sun radiated around them.
In the end, he capitulated and they shared the last of her meager morsels while Geordie tried to cast his gaze anywhere but at Akira.
Dear God, he felt like a fraud. His skin tingled every time she looked at him.
The lass may have been born in the gutter, but she has tenacity. And she’s bonnier than any woman I’ve ever seen in all my years at court.
Perhaps he could find a match for her—find a good man who wasn’t blinded by his prejudices. Geordie snorted. Such a task might be easier said than done.
The thought of finding her a match didn’t sit well—made his blood boil and his gut churn.
She tied his bandage in place. “You look deep in thought.”
He blinked. Dear God, did she have to look so ravishing when she smiled like that? “Just thinking about our route out of these mountains.”
She brushed off her hands. “Right. I’ll fetch the horse and we can be on our way.”
Geordie rolled to his knee. “No, I should—”
“I won’t be but a minute.”
Slinging her satchel over her shoulder, Akira headed down the hill. Geordie watched her retreat. Sturdy shoulders tapered to a slender waist. Hips flaring into a delectable heart shape. In a blink, she disappeared down the slope.
Almost at once, a shriek filled the air.
His heart flying to his throat, Geordie sprang to his feet, ignoring the stabbing in his leg. Holy hellfire, a mudslide had ripped from the side of the hill, taking the lass tumbling downward in a deluge of rocks and debris.
Over and over she plummeted with the oozing mud.
“Akira!” He ran as fast as his injured thigh would allow.
Chapter Eight
Akira finally stopped falling when she hit the grassy lea. She lay there on her side for a minute, sucking in gasps of air. What hurt? Moreover, what didn’t? She wriggled her fingers and toes without any sharp jabs of pain.
Nearby, the horse continued grazing as if nothing had happened.
“Akira!” Geordie called for the second time.
She pushed to
her elbow. Oh dear, the man was hobbling down the hill, putting far too much stress on his wounded leg.
Before she could tell him to slow down, he dropped beside her with a grunt. “Are you all right?” He pulled her into his arms, crushing her head to his chest. “Please tell me you are unharmed.”
“I think I am well.” She again flexed her toes. Everything hurt, but no sharp pains jabbed her. “Mayhap a bit bruised.”
He smoothed his hand over her crown. “I never want to see you fall like that again.”
Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy his succor. Melted into it as blessed warmth spread through her body. If only he would touch her like that again and again. She would never grow tired of such comfort, such a sense of security. Goodness, his gentle touch almost felt like a caress, didn’t it? Yet he was the patient, not she. Forcing herself to push away from his embrace, Akira regarded her kirtle. “Oh no, I’m entirely covered with mud—and there’s a wee tear over the knee.” Even her hair was smattered with dirt.
When a bit of blood dropped on her skirts, Geordie took her hand and turned it over. “You’ve grazed your palm.”
She hissed. “I guess I did.”
“Do you have another length of bandage in your satchel?”
“Mm hmm.” Somehow the bag had stayed with her the whole ungraceful romp down the hillside.
He reached in and pulled out the bandage, tearing off a length and replacing the rest of the clean roll.
“This could use some of your salve.”
“’Tis in the satchel as well.”
Akira watched while he tended her as if she were a delicate flower. Using his fourth finger, he rubbed in the salve with a featherlight touch. “Does it sting?”
“Aye.”
He blew on it to cool the burn, just as she’d done to him countless times.
This Highlander seemed such a quandary. They’d spent so much time together, but she knew nothing about him. “Where do you hail from in the north?”
Frowning, he wrapped the bandage around her hand. “The region of Aberdeen.”
“Ah,” she said as if she knew where it was. Of course, she’d heard of the town, but the mountain where they were sitting just might have been the farthest she’d ever been away from Dunkeld. In fact, she was quite certain of it.
He turned her palm downward, tied the bandage, and gave her a wee pat. “Now let’s see if you can stand.”
Akira could tell he tried not to grimace when he pushed up to help her, and by the color flooding from his face, she knew he was hurting. She leaned forward and braced herself. “I can stand on my own.”
“I forbid it,” he said, as if in command of every living creature.
“I beg your pardon?”
He cleared his throat, straightening on his boots. “Ah…It would be ungentlemanly of me not to help you stand, given the magnitude of your fall.”
Baffled, she regarded him with a pinch to her brow. First he boomed an order like the Marquis of Atholl, then he took on a polite tone, the likes of which she’d never heard in her life.
He offered his hand. “M’lady.”
She took it and allowed him to pull her to a stand. “Who are you?”
He shifted his gaze away. “Just a misguided Scot who needs to go home.”
“Aye? You’ve said that afore, but by your speech, I reckon you’re a man with a great deal of property.”
“I do hold property,” he said, stepping back but keeping ahold of her hand. “Now take a step toward me.”
She did.
“How did that feel?” Craning his neck, he peered down to her feet. “Are you unsteady at all?”
“I think everything is still in working order.” Her knee hurt when it rubbed against her skirts. She imagined it was a bit grazed, but the idea of having Mr. Geordie push up her skirts and rub his rugged palms along her calf mortified her to no end.
“Very well,” he said, his tone growing gruff again. “Let us hope we can remain unscathed from here on out.”
* * *
Once the excitement of Akira’s fall abated, Geordie’s thigh decided it was time to punish him for his attempt at heroics. He hadn’t even thought about the pain when he bounded down the hill and took her into his arms. The horrible sight of Akira falling, with the ground giving way beneath her, had nearly stopped his heart. Every time he closed his eyes, he shuddered. What if she’d been seriously injured?
Not that he had grown affectionate toward the lass. That wasn’t it at all. As a man and a duke, he had a duty to protect women in general. True, he’d been a bit rakish in his past, but now he’d been gifted with the opportunity to show what a true gentleman he could be—to be a true hero. Not a man who fought a battle and received medals of valor, but a man respected in the eyes of a bonny young maid who had no notion of his standing in society.
Akira broke the silence. “’Tis a relief to enjoy the sunshine,” she said, sitting the horse aside like a proper lady. Except she was wedged between his legs—yet another challenge to his lustful Gordon urges. Thank God for the hole in his thigh, else he mightn’t have made it this far without attempting to ravish the lass…or at least starting the chase.
She turned her face up, allowing the sun’s rays to wash over her. Most women he knew would have been too concerned about age spots to risk exposing their delicate porcelain skin so. Taking in a deep inhale, she smiled up at him. “Do you like sunshine, Mr. Geordie?”
“Indeed, I do.” He chuckled, humored by the way she oft added Mr. to his nickname. As a matter of fact, it was refreshing not to be referred to as “Your Grace.”
“And it is ever so much warmer than yesterday.” She shifted her seat, the soft flare of her hip nudging his loins.
A deep moan rumbled from his throat before he could stifle it. Dear Lord, the mere shift of her buttocks between his legs was enough to bring him undone. And when she moved, his cock shot to rigid, not just a wee rush but a full-fledged erection. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on his pain. He dipped his chin and inhaled. Ah yes, lovely jasmine, mixed with wild woman. Dear God. Stop.
“Do you have any family?” she asked.
“A son and a daughter.” He mightn’t be free to tell her the specifics, but he could mention his children. At least they hadn’t left him.
“You have children?” She sounded surprised.
“Aye, many men of three and thirty have children.”
“Sorry, I just didn’t take you as a family man. You haven’t mentioned anything about your wife—or your bairns.”
Every day, he blocked his mind from thinking of his dragon of a former wife—but never in a million years would he forget his children. He cleared his throat. “Elizabeth left me to join a convent.”
Akira touched her dainty fingers to her lips. “She left you alone with two young children?”
Aye, and near two hundred servants. Geordie’s gut twisted. He didn’t want to talk about the duchess. “Aye.”
“What kind of woman would do something so heartless?”
“A very selfish one.”
“With two bairns at home, how could you leave your children and ride into battle? You could have been killed—were almost killed, actually.”
“Duty to country must come before family.” Sometimes he hated being a nobleman—the pressure, the expectations, the pomp. It was a breath of fresh air to be just a man for once in his life.
“You believe that?” She slapped a hand through the air. “I spit on any cause that harms my family. Why, I would protect my sisters with my life—even Annis, who is the most vainglorious lass I’ve ever met.”
Geordie almost laughed. How could any waif be vainglorious? “I doubt you’ve met the du—um—many noblewomen.”
“Well, no, I haven’t had much of a chance to.” She thumped his chest with her pointer finger. “But you should be home with your wee bairns.”
“Not to worry, they are being well cared for by their governess.”
<
br /> “Governess? Goodness, you must be well off.” She turned away and ran her fingers through the horse’s mane. “Pray tell, what are your children’s ages?”
“Alexander is eleven and Jane seven.”
She sighed. “And they’re learning to read and write? You must be very proud.”
“I am.”
“I wish someone had taught me to read.” A blush filled her cheeks as she bit her lip and looked down.
Bloody hell, this lass could tug on his heartstrings like no one he’d ever met. “Mayhap that’s something we can remedy once we return to civilization.”
“Ha, as if a poor woman like me could afford a tutor.”
“One never kens.” He clamped his lips shut. Once he handed Akira’s care over to an escort, he doubted he’d ever see her again. And he wasn’t about to start making empty promises to the lass.
They rode in silence for a time—Akira’s hip still nestled firmly against his groin. Though his mind ran the gamut, Geordie’s confidence in his ability to resist her charms grew.
After cresting one of the numerous hills, he pulled the horse to a stop. The scene below looked as if it could only be from an artist’s rendering.
Gasping, Akira drew her hand to her chest. “How indescribably beautiful. ’Tis almost as if it is magical.”
Geordie had to agree. “Magnificent.”
A waterfall cascaded in four tiers, fingering wider as the water splashed down to an inviting pool of cobalt blue. Trees draped with moss surrounded the oasis, and had he not pulled the horse up in that very spot, he might have missed the exquisite view. Gradually, he walked the horse into the ravine.
“Do you think we might have time for me to rinse out my kirtle?” She shook her skirts, a bit of caked mud dropping from the wool. “I feel ever so dirty.”
Geordie looked to the waterfall and licked his lips. If only they could go for a swim—together. “Aye. We may as well stop here for the night. I’m sure with a tempting pool like that, there ought to be plenty of wildlife about. Besides, we can’t go much further without a meal.”
“Mm, I’m hungry, too.”
