Helen drew in a stuttered breath. She’d seen him shirtless often, but that was years ago when she and Gyllis used to watch the knights sparring from the battlements at Kilchurn Castle. And she’d never been this close. His arms were sculpted with thick, undulating muscles. The one holding the shirt flexed, defining perfection. His chest was as broad as a horse’s hindquarters with hard muscle beneath embossing each masculine breast. She ached to press her fingers against his flesh to discover if he were made of iron. Her eyes drank him in, then dipped lower. Well defined muscle rippled over his abdomen, but that’s where she stopped. Helen clapped a hand to her chest and gasped.
He shook the shirt. “Should I set it on the table?”
Her mouth suddenly turned as arid as a hot pan with no water. She licked her lips and plucked the clothing from his grasp. “I’ll do it.” She turned her back to him on the pretense of folding the shirt. You are here to tend his wound and that is all. She steeled her nerves with a deep inhale. “Tell me what happened.” After she pulled a cloth from her basket, she swathed his wound. It was still weeping, but thankfully the heavy bleeding had stopped.
“I suppose it was my fault.” Eoin held up his palms and shrugged. “Sir Aleck came into the courtyard and I needled him a bit for not being present for our training sessions. It turned into a challenge and, the next thing I knew, we were throwing fists.”
“And he pulled a dagger.” She pushed against his belly to see how deep the injury went. A hand’s breadth long, it wasn’t the worst she’d seen, but the cut needed to be tended for certain.
He hissed. “Aye. I should have been expecting him to pull a blade.”
“Why? I heard the part where you said no weapons.”
He hesitated and pursed his lips, but Helen gave him her inquisitive eye—it worked on everyone but Aleck.
Eoin gave her a lopsided grin. “Some people don’t like to play fair.”
“That would be Aleck MacIain.”
“Aye, m’lady,” he whispered, a touch of color flooded to his cheeks as if he were embarrassed to admit to it.
She fished in her basket for a bone needle and thread. “It needn’t bother you to speak the truth.”
“No, m’lady.” His voice rasped.
“Your wound must be stitched.” Helen held up a needle and threaded it.
“I can think of no gentler hands to tend me.”
She regarded him over her shoulder. His chin was slightly lowered and he looked up to meet her gaze. There was a hunger in that crystal-blue stare, fringed by long, dark lashes. It was Helen’s turn to flush. From the heat spreading across her cheeks, she knew she must be as red as a berry. If he asks, I’ll say the room is overwarm.
She stepped into him. “Shall I call for some whisky?”
He continued to stare. “Nay, it’ll be fine.”
Helen swallowed and ignored those piercing blues, at least tried to make a pretense of doing so. “S-sir Aleck always ensures he has plenty of drink before being stitched.”
“Do you stitch him often?”
“I did once, but now he has…someone else tend to his ills.”
Eoin’s gaze narrowed and he looked at her with a concerned expression. Then he grasped her chin and examined the bruising around her eye. “It has almost completely faded.”
She turned her head away so he couldn’t see the eye. “I’ve been trying to keep it hidden.”
He smoothed his hand over her cheek—the one without the bruise. His fingers, though rough, were gentle—so unlike Aleck’s. If only things had been different for her.
“I’m sorry you’ve been unhappy,” he said, making her heart skip a beat.
She smiled and knelt, holding up the needle. “Are you ready?” Heaven help her, he smelled of the sea on a warm summer’s day.
“Aye.” And his deep burr curled off his tongue like a lazy wave.
Helen forced herself to focus on the task at hand, lest she hurt him. She carefully used her thumb and pointer finger to pinch Eoin’s flesh together, trying to keep her hands steady. “Things are not half so lonely now that I have Maggie.”
He chuckled. “How is the bairn?”
“She’s healthy. Growing too fast.” She made the first suture.
Eoin didn’t even hiss. “Wee ones have a way of doing that.”
“I suppose they do, though this is the only time I’ve had the opportunity to see it first-hand.” She tied off the second suture.