Page 145 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

"Aye. Thank the saints my skull is made of steel." Brodie lay down crosswise on the bed so Finnian could reach his head easily.

"Bah! You think you're immortal." Finnian parted his hair, making the wound sting again. "I have to shave your hair from around it."

Brodie rolled his eyes. "Fine. Do your worst."

After removing her bloody cloak and outer arisaid, Elsea knelt beside him on the mattress and held his hand. He enjoyed observing her mischievous smile. Her eyes shone like the bright blue sky outside. The gray was gone and happiness had returned, similar to two years ago when they'd first met. She was a wondrous distraction while Finnian tortured him with a straight razor, then washed the blood from his hair. Sharp pains punctured his scalp.

Brodie muttered a curse through gritted his teeth.

"A lady is present, lad," Finnian chided.

"Aye, well. She's said worse."

Her mouth dropped open, and he chuckled.

He yearned to kiss her so badly and have her cuddled against his. Didn't matter how injured he was. Her presence soothed and comforted him.

"I'm thankful you two shattered the curse," Finnian said.

"How did you ken?" Brodie asked. Had Torr told him?

"I foresaw it." Finnian grinned. "Most likely, I knew it before you did."

"Of course." Brodie smiled. "I'm thankful too." This was the first day of their new life together. He was never letting her out of his sight again. She was canny, lethal, and gorgeous. The perfect woman for him. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"There now," Finnian said. "You ken I have to clean it good."

"Which means hellfire again, aye?"

"I'm afraid so. Hold him down, lass," he said to Elsea.

Brodie scoffed. "You're being ridiculous. I need no one to hold me down, least of all a wee lass."

"I'm nay wee." Elsea appeared affronted. "I dragged you and protected you, did I not?"

"Shh. No one needs to ken all the details," he whispered, then winked.

She bit her lip to hide her smile, making him want to do the same to her.

When he least expected it, Finnian poured the damnable whisky onto his scalp, making his head feel as if he'd lit on fire.

Brodie clenched his teeth and scrunched his eyes closed, forcing himself not to yell out in pain. Only a low growl emerged.

"You are one lucky lad," Finnian said.

"I am," Brodie gritted out amidst the torture, then sucked in a lungful of the whisky scent. He opened his eyes to stare into Elsea's concerned gaze. He didn't care how many injuries he had to endure if he could look into her beautiful eyes every day for the rest of his life.

"Is he going to be alright?" Elsea asked.

"Aye, with plenty of rest. I'm nay going to stitch the wound. 'Twill heal better the way it is. I'll check it every day. Any more injuries?"

"Just a minor cut on my arm. 'Tis of no consequence. Several of the soldiers have need of your help for their injuries."

"Very well. Have his manservant wash the blood and grime from him. I will be back later." Finnian ambled from the room.

Elsea proceeded toward the basin and pitcher of water one of the servants had delivered. Using a warm linen cloth and soap, she washed the blood from Brodie's face, first his cheeks, then his forehead.

"Ruskin could do it," Brodie said, his eyes closed.