Page 29 of Duncan

I shouldn’t be here. I made up my mind. I know how dangerous he is to me.

She leaned close, trying to hear what Duncan might be doing inside, and saw some flickering light at the gap at the bottom of the door. She might knock, go in and invite the man to join her for dinner so they could talk a little more about his work around the island. There was certainly nothing he could read into that kind of invitation–

The door suddenly opened, and Shaw looked at her with a raised brow, as if he could hear every idiot thought in her head.

“I thought I’d see if Duncan wants to have dinner with me and the other ladies.” She would have added a casual, meaningless smile to that, but then she saw the healer on the pallet in the back, and pushed the chieftain aside as she hurried over to him. Before she could touch him, however, Shaw got between them.

“He doesnae wish inflict his suffering on you, my lady,” the chieftain said, and nodded toward another man sleeping on the exam table. “Shark shifters attacked the lad, and as he treated him my brother took his pain away.”

“Step aside, Chieftain.” When he didn’t move Nicole almost punched him. “I heal faster than Duncan. If those shifters are on this island then I’m sure there will be more victims.”

“We reckon the same,” Shaw admitted.

“’Tis all right, Brother.” The healer’s voice rasped as he added, “Permit the lady do as she wishes.”

Nicole dragged a stool over and sat down beside the pallet. Pressing her hand to his brow to check him for fever was ridiculous—he was an immortal who supposedly never got sick—but she didn’t care. She could see the terrible pain in his eyes, and against her palm his skin seemed too cold and clammy. Finally she took hold of his hands and held them clasped between hers.

“When I pass out, you’ll have to give up your spot and look after me,” she warned him, blinking against the stinging in her eyes. Why was she being so emotional? “It’s not just on you anymore, Healer MacMar.” Pain suddenly gnawed at her from all sides, and blood bloomed on her bodice and sleeves, shocking her. At the same time a warmth spread over her, along with the beginnings of deep arousal. Torn between all the emotions and sensations, she dragged in a breath and said, “You have to think about the other wound sponge around here.”

“Keep hold of me,” he said when she loosened her grip.

She suspected he was trying to take back what he’d given her. “You can’t reabsorb the pain.”

“Mayhap no’, only I shall try.” He closed his eyes, grimacing as if he could sense her suffering.

If it reassured him, Nicole thought, she’d hold his hands until she passed out. Whatever the healer had taken from the injured man had been extremely painful, and for a moment she eyed a nearby bucket as her stomach heaved in reaction. Then the warmth grew and swept through her, soft and almost liquid, as if she’d been doused with bath water. It took with it all the pain biting into her. Suddenly she realized she was alone with him; Shaw had vanished.

“What did you do?” she whispered, shocked all over again.

“The lad’s pain I took, and that you took from me, ’tis gone.” He sat up and pulled her into his arms. “We healed each other, my lady.”

The embrace should have made her uncomfortable, and it did, but not in the way she anticipated. Julianne’s hug had been warm and friendly, but Duncan’s was more intimate and sensual. Oh, if she were honest with herself, everything the man did turned her on; he could just smile at her and her blood heated up. He probably thought nothing of it, because he wasn’t shivering or about to groan.

It wasn’t fair, but that was becoming their tune. What if she couldn’t keep resisting him? What if she had to choose between him and saving her father?

“I appreciate your healing me.” Nicole eased out of his arms and stood. “Now I need to go and change into something that doesn’t have blood all over it. No, please, don’t bother,” she added when he got up from the pallet.

She kept a straight face as she left the infirmary, and even nodded to the guards she passed. She wondered why they didn’t react to her being covered in blood, but when she glanced down at herself she saw the stains on her clothes had vanished.

As if it never happened. Did I do that?

You can’t get drunk on your father’s brandy, or get stoned with your cousin, or have sex with the gardener’s son who keeps ogling you, or do any of the things other girls do, her Aunt Merry had told her when she was thirteen. You’re too special.

Nicole made it to the guest room, and once inside dropped the bar to keep Duncan or anyone else from intruding. She then stripped out of the gown, just in time to see dozens of triangular pale pink scars fading to white on her fair skin. The sight of the healed wounds made her stagger over to the bed, where she found a bundle of newly-made clothing.

Did someone know this was going to happen to me? Did they assume I would want to change my clothes? No, that’s ridiculous.

She sat down beside the clothing, startled by how quickly her fears subsided. Too many times she had wished she could trade her trust fund, her super cushy life and all the perks of being Maxwell Fairburn’s daughter just so she could stop being so paranoid. Ever since her aunt had visited her, she’d grown panicky each time something unexpected happened. Until now she always imagined and feared the worst.

These people don’t want to hurt me. I’m okay here.

A knock on the door made Nicole rub her eyes. Taking a long shirt from the pile of clothes, she pulled it over her head before she tugged on some trousers and went to unbar and open the door.

Outside in the hall Valerie stood with a tray that held a steaming mug and a plate of fruit, cheese and oatcakes.

“Since you didn’t come down for the evening meal, I brought some to you,” the laird’s wife said, but her smile vanished as she took in her appearance. “You all right?”

“I’m not sure.” Was she going to confess all to this woman? Maybe not all. She pulled the door open wider. “Please, do come in.”