Page 8 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

Blurrily, he looked around. The bed he was in was much harder than the one he was used to, and when he looked down, it was to see straw escaping from the mattress. Resting his head back, Niven tried to get his bearings.

“Where, where am I?” he asked, his eyes fastening on hers. This was his first glimpse of the woman who had saved him. Her voice had been in his head for what felt like an eternity, and now he turned to see her.

The first thing that struck him was the piercing blue of her eyes. They were so bright, he had to blink. And when he moved his eyes down through the rest of her face, he was even more stunned.

Her flawless skin up close before him made him want to reach out and touch her. Helplessly, Niven gazed up at the maiden before him. Her complexion was creamy and fresh, and the whites of her eyes sparkled with a clarity that was rare.

When she smiled, it revealed a perfect set of teeth that were so straight that Niven wondered if he might be dreaming the whole thing. Girls like this weren’t real? Were they? At least, not in his world, anyway.

“So ye dinnae remember, then?” the girl said, leaning in and bringing her shapely face even closer.

Now he could feel her breath, hot against his skin, brushing his cheek and inviting him in. Everything about her seemed to spur him on, provoking him to touch her and then a whole lot more besides.

A hot flush starting on his cheeks, Niven had to reel himself in and physically stop himself from doing just that. This woman was unreal. Her beauty had beckoned him in, almost pleading with him to touch her, but just in time, he held back.

Sitting back in the bed, Niven felt his pale cheeks color with a blush. He was not used to pretty maidens just appearing in front of him.

An amused spark danced through the girl’s blue eyes, and Niven watched as the sides of her face crinkled with mirth. Something had tickled her, but he didn’t know what.

“Remember?” he stuttered, wishing he had a clue what she meant, “Um, is there something I am meant to remember?”

He gazed into her face; she was openly laughing at him.

“Miss?” he asked helplessly. Now his eyes had darted all about the room; it was clear he was in some poor teuchter’s cottage. Everything about this place seemed bare, from the cracked and faded walls to the worn linen on the bed.

But when he turned to the lass in front of him, she stood out from the drab surroundings. Her hair was simple but beautifully arranged in a cascade of curls, which flowed to one side. And her clothes, although humble, were well cut and clean. She might be a servant, but she was no common peasant.

She brought her bonny head up to his, bringing ecstasy an inch closer. Niven thought he would collapse, once more, into her arms, but then she grinned and pulled him up in time.

Finally, Niven could take no more. This woman was laughing at him.

“Miss, does something please ye?” he asked, point-blank. Now that he was beginning to come around again, he noticed a strange, dry taste in his mouth.

Propping himself back up in the bed, Niven took care to note that his head had cleared somewhat, and now he was able to look at her properly.

Her hair was arranged in a clever assortment of curls, fashioned intricately to flatter her face. Although she was so striking that she would have looked breathtaking in an old maid’s coif. And her face. Now it was so close to his, it was impossible to overlook the simple beauty of her features.

She had a comely, snub nose, sitting perfectly in the middle of an oval face. Her features were equably proportioned, with her almond eyes drawn delicately in hues of azure.

Sitting beneath her button nose were the most delicious lips Niven had ever set eyes on. They were plump and soft and in an intense shade of rose pink, which complemented her creamy complexion and fair hair. The shining mane of red locks tumbling down her shoulders only set it off more.

Realizing he was staring, Niven cast his eyes downwards, quickly.

“Ach, ye nae remember us dragging ye here, half-daid?” she said, the beginnings of an impetuous grin twitching around her lips.

“N-nae,” said poor Niven, unable to remember or think about anything except for the softness of her skin.

“We had to carry ye, didn’t we?” she said, with a sly wink to someone who had just come into the back of the room. Vaguely, Niven was aware of another woman, possibly another maid, scurrying around in the backdrop.

“Aye,” said the wench, her low voice barely carrying to where he was lying. There was something in the woman’s demeanor that seemed uneasy, as if she wanted to say something, but not in front of him.

Sure enough, the girl scurried forwards. But just then, Niven wasn’t that interested in her, he only had eyes for one woman, and that was the one in front of him.

Niven felt something twisting in his loins as, unbidden, the red-haired woman put her hand to his forehead, and her expression turned pensive.

“What is it?” he asked, in a barely audible whisper. He didn’t really know why he was whispering. It just seemed inappropriate to speak any louder, what with a strange maiden’s hand on him.

“Och, I’m just checking,” she said, between pursed lips. Then, softly, she lifted his right arm, feeling carefully for a pulse.