to dress his wounds that she had succeeded in pushing the image of him naked from her mind. But now, as she lay alone in the dark, it would not leave her. It merged in her mind with the couple in the storeroom.
What would it be like to have Connor touch her like that? To have him look at her with smoldering passion in his eyes as he ran his hands over her skin?
Chapter 5
Are ye any closer to choosing a new captain?" Ilysa ventured to ask.
Even after a week of dressing Connor's wound, Ilysa could not claim she was unaffected by being so close to him when he was bare-chested. But she was able to maintain at least an outward calm, and they usually fell into easy conversation. Today, however, Connor seemed distracted.
"Tait is a good fighter and loyal," he said. "But I fear he's no leader."
"That's for certain," Ilysa said, which earned her a smile.
"Ian's brother Niall will make an outstanding captain in a few years, but I need one now," Connor said. "The others are fine warriors, or will be with some training, but none is as good as a captain ought to be."
"Hmm," she murmured as she unwound the linen strips from around his chest.
"I've been watching the men every day, and I haven't seen one who has what it takes."
"What qualities are ye looking for?" she asked.
"He should be the strongest warrior, the most loyal man, and a leader the others respect enough to follow without question," Connor said.
"Ye can't expect to find someone who can replace my brother or your cousins," she said in a soft voice. "The four of ye trained and fought together all your lives."
"Aye." Connor's chest rose and fell under her fingers as he took a deep breath and blew it out. "I'd settle for one man who stands above the others."
Ilysa had raised the subject purposefully. Still, she hesitated, unsure of how Connor would take a suggestion from her on a subject so far from her knowledge.
"I may have to choose Sorely, for lack of someone better," Connor said, his gaze fixed on the sea out the window. "He's a strong warrior, and I know he's loyal."
"I've heard of someone who may be worthy of your consideration."
"Who?" Connor said, turning to fix steely-blue eyes on her.
Sometimes the shift in his manner from disarming friendliness to chieftain was startling. Ilysa forced her breathing to remain steady as she told him what she knew about the man Cook had described.
"I hope this Lachlan is all that you've heard," Connor said. "I'll send for him. Someone in the castle will know where to find him."
Ilysa smiled to herself, having accomplished one of the two tasks she had set for herself before coming into the room. Now for the second one.
"The wound on your chest is healing well, but I haven't seen the one on your leg since I removed the arrow," she said, praying her cheeks were not turning pink. "Ye should let me look at it."
Despite her embarrassment, she was faintly disappointed when he pulled his tunic on. She helped him, as usual, so that he would not ruin the bandaging she had just done. When he started unfastening his trews, she spun around. She could almost hear him chuckle.
"Wish me well," he said while her back was to him.
"Why?" she asked.
"I'm negotiating a marriage contract tonight."
Ilysa slowly turned around. "A marriage contract? For who?"
"For me," Connor said with a sudden, blinding smile.
"Who are ye marrying?" Her mind was moving slowly, as if she had thick mud in her head. "Is it...Deirdre?"
"Aye," he said. "She's a fair lass, isn't she?"
"She is that." Ilysa's heart pounded in her ears. She had to tell him about Deirdre and her lover, but how?
"Is something wrong, Ilysa? Ye look pale."
He startled her by grasping her around her waist and lifting her onto the stool he had been sitting on earlier. Oh my. That had not helped calm her at all. He leaned down until his face was inches from hers and scrutinized her with narrowed eyes, which set her heart beating harder still.
"I know it's not my place to say this" - she paused to lick her lips - "but I like to think we're friends."
"Of course we are." He straightened and looked impossibly tall standing above her. "I've known ye since ye were a babe in your mother's arms."
"Ye mustn't marry Deirdre," she said. "She isn't the right wife for ye."