“I think you’d better take your shirt off.”
He raised an eyebrow and managed a weak grin. “That’s a bit forward, lass.”
Izzy scowled. “Don’t get cocky. So I can take a look at your injuries.”
Slowly, wincing and groaning, Magnus unwound the plaid sash from across his chest and tugged the linen shirt off over his head.
Izzy found herself staring at his naked torso. Despite his size, there was not an ounce of fat on him. He was all smooth skin and sculpted muscle, marred only by the bruises and grazes that covered his chest and stomach.
“This might hurt a bit,” she said apologetically.
“I’ll try not to scream.”
Izzy began gently cleaning the cuts and grazes with one of her antiseptic wipes, wiping away the blood as gently as she could. Magnus made not a sound nor moved an inch, although she could tell from the tense set of his shoulders that he was in a lot of pain.
It ought to bother her, being this close to a hulking, half-naked Highlander she barely knew. But it didn’t. She found herself enjoying the closeness. He shivered slightly and she wasn’t sure whether it was from the pain of his injuries or from the lightness of her touch.
When she was done, she took the lid off the pot of antiseptic cream and dabbed the salve onto his injuries before gently massaging it into his skin. Magnus said nothing as she worked but she could feel him watching her.
Her fingertips tingled where they glided over the smooth contours of his face and chest, and she tried to tell herself it was just the effects of the antiseptic ointment, but she didn’t believe this for one minute. Being close to Magnus did something strange to her, something she wasn’t quite ready to examine just yet.
She wasn’t sure to be relieved or disappointed when she finally finished. She dared to look up and found his eyes on her, deep blue and warm like the ocean in summer. There was gratitude there, yes, but also...something else. Something that stirred inside her and made her acutely aware of the dim lighting and the proximity of their bodies.
“Isabelle,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Her lips parted and she found herself leaning forward, leaning in towards those full lips of his...
She jerked back with a start. Clearing her throat, she rummaged around in her pack then thrust a blister-pack and her water bottle at him. “Here.”
He took them gingerly. “What is this, lass?”
“Painkillers,” she replied. “You pop the pills out of the pack. They’ll dull the pain and make sure you can sleep.”
Magnus followed her instructions, took the pills, and downed them with a big swallow of water. Izzy pushed back a loose strand of hair and wiped the ointment off her hands onto a clean cloth, then packed her first aid kit away in her bag.
Magnus gingerly touched one of the spots where Izzy had applied the ointment, wincing slightly. “Thank ye for yer help, lass.”
“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do.”
Izzy found her gaze slipping over the lines of his body. She forced herself to look away and an awkward silence fell. She desperately tried to think of something light-hearted to fill the silence but her mind seemed to have gone blank.
She was rescued from the awkwardness by Morwenna returning carrying a tray. It was loaded with a bowl of soup forMagnus, two big pottery cups that smelt of beer, and a large, meaty bone which she tossed to Snaffles.
“Ah!” she said, putting down the tray and casting a critical eye over Magnus’s injuries. “Ye are a strapping lad, aren’t ye? I’ve no doubt ye’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“Tell that to my ribs,” Magnus growled.
Morwenna chuckled, patting his shoulder with a maternal hand. “Feeling a bit tender? That’s only natural. A few days of rest and ye’ll be good as new.” She looked them both over. “We dinna have room for ye inside, what with all those staying with us that have lost their homes, but ye are welcome to spend the night in here if ye like? I can bring ye out some blankets.”
Izzy blinked. Spend the night here? In a stable? With donkeys? And...and Magnus?
As if sensing her unease, Magnus said, “Is there space in the loft where the lass could get some privacy?”
“Aye, enough space for one I’d wager,” Morwenna replied. “But I thought ye two were...” She flushed suddenly. “My apologies. I shouldnae assume. I’ll have one of my lads bring ye out some blankets. I’ll be inside if ye need me.”
With that, she rose to her feet and left. Izzy watched her go, her cheeks flaming from the assumption the woman had let slip. Did everyone here think she and Magnus were together? She supposed it must look that way with the two of them riding in together and the way she’d defended him against the angry villager.
Oh, heck. She didn’t need this complication adding to the list. The straw rustled and Izzy looked over to see Magnus finishing his bowl of soup and then pulling his shirt backon, gritting his teeth as the linen snagged on his cuts and bruises. Izzy felt a twang of disappointment and tried not to show it, downing her mug of weak beer, then piling the dishes on the tray.
