Highlander's Touch Read Online Free Page B

remained black. He couldn’t tell whether his eyes were open or not. He willed himself to keep them closed, just in case, and remained very still, hoping the bastard on horseback had thought him dead and left. Good thing he’d had the forethought to draw the MacDonalds away from Flynn, he only hoped the lad had been able to escape or find the other Grant warriors.
    Wait!
    His mind fastened upon one startling question—who was the woman?
    She’d shouted a warning to him. Had she been the one to shoot the arrows?
    He strained to listen, but the sound of rushing water was pronounced inside his skull. If he’d not felt the ground beneath him, he might have thought he was lying in a loch or the sea, waves crashing over him.
    “Oh my god,” someone whispered nearby.
    ’Twas her . He was almost certain of it. There was a swishing noise and then a whoosh of air beside him.
    “What have I done?” he heard her say.
    Ewan tried to shake his head, but any subtle movement pained him, and he wasn’t even certain he was moving to begin with.
    Who was she with? Was she part of the MacDonald gang? What was she so worried over?
    He couldn’t remember what she looked like. But he was almost certain he’d never seen her before. She wasn’t from Gealach, so she could be a MacDonald. Though there was every possibility she was a fairy, too.
    The pull of agony and the rushing water in his head drowned out his thoughts. And then the pain receded to a tingling numbness. He was falling deep inside himself.
    And everything was…
     

     
    SHONA hesitated, breathless with fear.
    ’Twas her fault the warrior had been hurt. With a darting glance from left to right, and seeing no one, she ran to the warrior’s side. He was even more stunning in person. Golden hair with brows that slashed in arches on his broad forehead. Angled bone structure and a strong, chiseled jaw. He was no stranger to fighting, that was apparent. His nose bore a distinct notch where it had been broken several times. Instead of tending to him, she found herself staring at his mouth. A wide mouth with full lips that made her dream of cold winter nights when those lips could be used to warm her. What in Hades was wrong with her?
    Shona shivered, feeling shame. This poor man was crumpled on the ground, broken, discarded and she was thinking about kissing. Him . She tore her gaze from his lips to stare at his closed eyes.
    Without hesitation, Shona pressed her hand to his stubbled cheek, feeling the bristles scrape and tickle over her palm. His skin was warm, and when she held her thumb beneath his nose she felt his breath.
    He lives .
    Blood soaked his shredded shirt. She needed to find out how many wounds he had sustained beyond the injury to his head. And fast. Though he survived for now, there was still a chance he could die considering the amount of blood seeping from his wounds.
    But how could she get him away from here? He wasn’t going to walk, and she wouldn’t be able to carry him. A few feet away, the warrior’s mount bobbed his head, as if nodding that he could help. When had he arrived?
    Shona did not know much about warhorses, but she’d heard they held a great bond with their masters. ’Haps the animal had heard his master fall and made certain to come and find him.
    The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She didn’t know if it was nerves or that she was being watched, but instinct bade her to be careful and quick. Shona checked to make certain there were no other warriors lying in wait. The only thing that appeared to accompany the three of them was a slight breeze that rustled the trees. She stared up at the limbs as they swayed, the branches hiding then revealing the blue, cloudless sky.
    Fortunately the weather was agreeable. She couldn’t imagine trying to heft this mountain of a man in the slippery mud.
    Holding out her hand to the animal, she blew a low whistle. The horse eyed her with suspicion, his head down, ears flicking back and forth.