The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel Read online

  Ellie swallowed hard and nodded. She dipped the rag in the cool water that Meg had poured from a pitcher into a small bowl and began to clean the gash, careful to avoid touching his bare skin with her fingers as she tried to wipe away the black grease, and the grit from the sea. But she was painfully aware of the tight muscles underneath—and of his eyes on her. It was almost as if he could feel the tension, too. As if he was just as aware as she was of her hands on him.

  Unfortunately, contact could not be avoided forever.

  “Put your hands here,” Meg said, showing her where she wanted them.

  Ellie took a deep breath and slid her palms on either side of the wound—one rested gently on his ribs and the other low on his hip. She swore she felt a sharp sizzle as a rush of heat flared under her hands.

  He jerked at the contact, and she pulled her hands back. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

  He started to shake his head, but then said, “Aye. It stings a bit more than I thought.”

  A small frown gathered between Ellie’s brows. “I’ll try to be more gentle.”

  She touched him again and although he didn’t jump, she could tell that it was causing him some kind of pain. His mouth was tight, and every muscle in his body seemed to clench.

  But it seemed to have the opposite effect on her. She could feel the heat and energy under her palms and ached to spread her hands over more of him. To test the strength burgeoning under her fingertips. To splay her fingers over the rigid bands of muscle that lined his stomach. To dip her fingers beneath the edge of the plaid—

  He made a low, pained sound in his throat and squirmed uncomfortably, almost as if he knew what she was thinking. But Meg gave a sharp tug of the sinew as she pulled the needle through his skin, and Ellie realized that must have been it.

  “Thanks, Ellie,” Meg said after a moment. She was eyeing Hawk with a strange look on her face. “I think I can finish from here.”

  Holding back a sigh of relief, Ellie removed her hands and quickly tucked them in her skirts. The captain seemed to relax as well.

  Wanting to break the awkward silence, Ellie asked, “How did this happen?”

  Domnall groaned. “Ah, lass, don’t ask him that.”

  Hawk gave him a reproachful glare and proceeded to tell a long, dramatic story of how he’d been out for a midnight swim when he’d come across a score of the biggest English ruffians he’d ever seen (in full armor and armed to the teeth, of course) preying on a galley of nuns and orphans on their way to the holy Isle of Iona. He could hardly ignore such injustice (hardly, she thought, for pirates were known for their adherence to justice) and had jumped onboard to help them, defeating the galley ruffians with only a dirk. But alas, he’d gone to the rescue of one of the children who one of the English was trying to throw overboard. He reached for the child, and one of the English managed to get a swipe in before Hawk was able to dispense him.

  By the time he’d finished his story, Meg was already done stitching him and was watching him with something akin to hero worship in her eyes.

  “That was a remarkable story,” Ellie said. Orphans and nuns? A bit much, she’d say, but he was nothing if not entertaining. “Was any of it true?”

  Domnall started coughing to hide his laughter, and Hawk gave him a sharp glance.

  “The lass has your mark, Captain,” Domnall said when he managed to get his laughing under control. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Well?” Ellie demanded.

  Hawk shrugged.

  “I didn’t think so,” she said pertly. “If piracy doesn’t work out for you, you should consider becoming a bard.”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “It was the orphans, wasn’t it?”

  “Among other things. The score of men as well. No one can defeat twenty men alone with only a dirk.”

  Domnall frowned. “The captain can.” She looked at the older man, expecting to see him smile, but he seemed to be in earnest. “He’s done it before.”

  “Don’t you have work to do, Domnall?” Hawk said sternly. “I thought you were going to replace some of the riggings.”

  Ellie couldn’t believe it. The braggart was embarrassed. He would make up ridiculously elaborate tales about his feats, but when the truth was told he became suddenly modest.

  It was … intriguing. Unexpected. Even charming.

  Ellie was still trying to digest the fact that he could take down twenty men by himself—how was such a thing possible?—as Domnall and the other men started to break away.

  Meg was looking back and forth between Ellie and the captain with a quizzical expression on her face. Uncomfortable with the other woman’s scrutiny, Ellie said, “I should get back to check on Thomas.”

  Meg shook her head. “Why don’t you stay. I’ll check on Thomas.” She tilted her head in Hawk’s direction but spoke as if he were not there. “Make sure he doesn’t get up for at least an hour—until the salve I put on the stitches has had time to dry.”

  The sticky, glue-like substance was unlike anything Ellie had ever seen before, but from what she’d seen of the stitches on Duncan’s arm, it seemed to work remarkably well to hold the wound together.

  He groaned. “An hour? I have things to do.”

  “They can wait,” Meg said, more firmly than Ellie had ever heard her speak to him before. Perhaps she wasn’t as blinded by him as Ellie thought.

  Meg left before Ellie could think of a reason to object. At least they weren’t alone. A few of the men were still lingering near the rear of the cave.

  She sat down on a rock opposite him, trying to get comfortable, which wasn’t easy with that impressive chest dominating her field of vision. Who knew muscles could be so … intriguing?

  She tried not to stare, but it was easier said than done. She lifted her gaze to his face, but her eyes caught on something on his upper arm. It appeared to be a marking of some kind, but with some of the black grease still smudged over him it was hard to tell. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to his upper arm.

  His expression tightened almost imperceptibly. “Nothing,” he said, adjusting the plaid around his shoulders to cover his arm. “An old scar.”

  It didn’t look like any kind of scar she’d ever seen. He’s hiding something. Just as she was, she reminded herself. But the secrets between them suddenly felt like a wall. For a moment, she forgot that the wall also protected her, feeling an overwhelming urge to knock it down. To really know him.

  “It must have been some fire,” she said.

  He gave her a puzzled glance, but she challenged him with her gaze, letting him know that she knew he had lied to her. “The soot. It’s all over you.”

  He held her gaze but didn’t say anything. Probably to avoid lying to her again.

  “Are you going to tell me what really happened?” she asked softly. “How you were injured?”

  Again he didn’t say anything, which she supposed was response enough. He didn’t want to confide in her. This tenuous truce they’d worked out was all there was. He didn’t want anything deeper. It shouldn’t disappoint her so badly.

  “A seven-year-old lad got the jump on me.”

  “Right,” she scoffed, shaking her head at the ridiculous explanation. He couldn’t be serious about anything. “Just tell me … was it because of what I asked you to do?”

  “Nay,” he said adamantly. “It had nothing to do with you. It’s a nick, Ellie, that is all. I was never in any real danger.”

  She sensed he was telling the truth and felt unaccountably relieved. These strange, divergent feelings she had for him confused her, but she knew one thing: she did not want to see him harmed.

  Her father would see his head on a pike if he ever caught up with him. She forced the chilling thought away. It wouldn’t come to that. She would protect him somehow. “You’re sure?”

  He smiled. “You won’t get out of your promise so easily. If it wasn’t for Meg’s salve I’d be holding you to it right now.”

  He