Aline glared at Gwen and Abby smiled, taking another bite of her sandwich. “You were saying the event causes splinters. How bad can they be?”
“Quite nasty. The wooden poles they’re throwing have not been smoothed, so it’s a hazard the men must deal with. Last year, Aedan had one that had to be cut out. He required stitches afterward. Ghastly looking wound, if ever I saw one.”
The thought of blood and bits of wood sticking out of skin turned Abby’s stomach and she put down her lunch. “It sounds barbaric.”
Aline sighed, rolling her eyes. “Abigail, if you’re to live in the Highlands, wounds, in most cases more severe than a mere splinter, are as common as the heather on these hills. You best get used to them.”
Gwen glared at Aline but Abby nodded. The girl was right, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d never been good around blood. “Well, all I can hope is tomorrow no such wounds occur, but then, since you’re such a capable woman who will tend the wounded with great enthusiasm, the competitors are truly fortunate that you’re here to help, aren’t they?”
Abby didn’t hide the sarcasm in her tone, which unfortunately seemed to be lost on Aline as she only nodded and smiled.
Not long after, they began to pack up the lunch, the leftovers were given to the men who had looked after the mob of horses to finish off.
Her mount, a placid mare that stood at her head height, looked more imposing than when she’d first mounted it back at the castle. She pulled the animal over to a fallen tree and stood on the wood to help get her foot in the stirrup. With one foot in, she jumped to gather momentum and felt a hand clasp her ass and push her into the air, and onto the saddle. She sucked in a startled breath.
Where Aedan’s hand touched, her skin burned. Her body longed for more of the same. For his hands to slide over every ounce of her flesh and touch, tease, learn every curve of her being.
Damn the man. She couldn’t be like this with him.
“You shouldn’t touch me like that. Someone may see.”
He watched her, the heat in his eyes making her ache.
“And if no one was watching? Would ye let me touch ye then?”
And there it was. The proposal of what he really wanted. Her.
Abby pushed a flyaway piece of hair from her eye and looked between the horse’s ears, anywhere but at the man who consumed her every thought, inflamed her every need and desire.
There was no doubt he could fulfil her every requirement in the bedroom, and expertly, too. She fiddled with the reins. “Does it really matter what I’d allow?” She did look at him then, his face the most appealing one she’d ever seen. Strong bones and eyes of deep green to make the grass weep with envy.
“It does to me.” His hand came to sit on her foot, his fingers sliding up her ankle to clasp the back of her calf.
Abby took a calming breath. The man was dangerous. “Right now there are three women who’d make a good match for you. All of them with breeding that surpasses my own. Not to mention, they’re born in this century.”
“I don’t give a blast about the other women. I want you.”
Her mouth dried at the words. Aedan moved closer still, his hand sliding farther up her leg, his fingers massaging her flesh. His touch felt wonderful, and she wondered what else he was good at. Abby shut her eyes, her body thrumming with suppressed desire. “Stop it,” she said, no conviction in her tone. “We could be seen.”
“Meet me in the anteroom on ye return. There are things we need to discuss.” He stepped back and she immediately felt the loss of his touch.
She wanted him next to her, touching her, looking only at her, as if she were the single most important person in his life, and the thought gave her pause. She nodded. “Fine. I’ll meet you there, but it won’t change anything. Surely you understand that.”
He didn’t reply, but slapped her horse on the bottom, sending it walking forward. Abby followed the other riders, her mind lost in thought. In only a few hours she would have to tell Aedan yet again to leave her well alone, to look for another and stop wasting his time with her.