Shoulder the Skye, page 8
“Did I give you any indication that I couldn’t take care of myself?”
He blinked and paused. Shite. “Nay, lass. I’m used to spotting trouble, is all.”
“And I suppose the fact that I’m a drough now never crossed your mind?” she bit out.
Her anger was barely leashed. Someone who held in that much emotion did it for a reason. Elias had learned that point himself. There were times the past still intruded, dredging up excruciating memories and a tsunami of fury. He had faced it with the help of the Knights. Who did Bronwyn have?
“It isna my place to judge. I shouldna have been spying. I apologize for that. I should’ve come straight to you, and I would have. I didna have time when the group showed up. I did what needed to be done.”
She held his gaze without replying.
Elias didn’t want to leave her. He didn’t know why he felt such a strong need to be by her side, but there was no denying it. He needed to make up for mucking things up so epically as he had. “I’m verra sorry to hear about your father.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes lowering.
“I hope you accept my apology for snooping around,” he said, watching her intently. “I was here because I was worried about what those goons would do. It had nothing to do with your change of magic.”
Her hazel gaze slid to him before she chewed and swallowed a bite of toast. “How long have you been watching me?”
Elias hesitated. He’d made headway, and he just might lose all the ground he’d made up. “Two nights.”
“So…you…?”
“Saw the mist fly around you?” he asked, his brows raised. “Aye.”
She stopped chewing for a heartbeat, and a frown quickly flashed over her face. “I’ve seen it before, but it was the first time it came near me like that. I didn’t like it.” She shivered. “At all.”
“Do you know who controls it?”
“Just because I’m drough doesn’t mean I’m privy to such things,” she snapped. Then she briefly closed her eyes and sighed. “If I did, I’d let Rhona know. I appreciate your help last night, but it’s best if you leave now. This isn’t your fight.”
Elias kept his expression blank as pain shot through him as he shifted and set aside his cup. He’d made his decision, and nothing could change his mind. He would eventually convince Bronwyn to let him help her. Until then, he’d give her what she wished. “You couldna walk last night. You were unconscious for hours.” He motioned to the fire with his head. “I’ll stay until my clothes are dry and I know you can get about without help.”
She eyed him for a long moment. “You haven’t asked about it.”
“About what?” But he knew exactly what she referred to. He’d been waiting on her.
“The blood magic.”
Chapter Eleven
Bronwyn might be able to think clearly if Elias put on a shirt. She couldn’t stop staring at his upper body. The light dusting of hair, the broad shoulders, the muscular arms, the thick chest, the washboard stomach. And the V of muscles that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans.
Though she also saw the massive bruise on his right side.
The sight of that amazing chest, combined with the pounding of her head, made it nearly impossible to keep her thoughts focused on their discussion. Her stomach roiled. She needed to fill it. The toast stuck in her mouth, but she managed to keep a couple of tiny bites down.
Bronwyn was surprised that Elias had agreed to leave. She’d been sure that he would try to poke around and ask a million questions she didn’t intend to answer. She took another nibble of toast before sipping the tea. Then, she made the mistake of bending her right knee. Her skin stretched, and the kneecap throbbed. She hissed in a breath. Elias was at her side in an instant.
He set aside the tray and started to lift the blankets. She slapped her hand over his and met his gaze. Blue eyes, clear and bright like a sunny day, met hers. She noted the band of navy that encircled his irises and the flecks of silver mixed with the blue.
“The cut on your knee was severe,” he told her. “I just want to see if you’re bleeding again.”
Bronwyn felt a bead of blood run down the side of her knee. She was so used to doing everything herself that she wasn’t sure how to allow someone to tend to her. It was a show of weakness that she couldn’t afford. But with her head and the pain in her side that had taken her breath when she sat up, she wasn’t sure she could do anything at the moment.
“There’s nothing wrong with accepting help,” Elias told her in a soft voice.
A gravelly, sexy voice.
That, along with his stunning eyes, was a combination she didn’t stand a chance against. Her gaze dropped to his chest again. He was so near she could feel his warmth. Desire unfurled low in her belly, pushing aside her pain. She had the urge to move her hand up his arm to his shoulder and then over his chest.
It had been so long since she had touched someone—or had anyone touch her. He could shove her hand aside and do what he wanted, but he didn’t. He waited for her. All the while holding her eyes. Her nipples hardened, reminding her that all that stood between them was blankets and her underwear. He had stripped her out of her clothes last night. She had missed out on feeling his hands, but if she’d been awake, she never would’ve let him come near her.
Would it really be so bad to accept this small touch? To allow someone to help her? To admit that she wanted to feel his skin against hers, however briefly?
The past few months had been the loneliest of Bronwyn’s life. If the night before was any indication of what was to come, she should take what compassion was offered. And it was kindness. It might have been decades since she had seen Elias MacLean, but he was still the same gentle, caring lad who had come to her defense all those years ago. But he was all grown now.
Into a ruggedly handsome man who made her wish she’d made different choices.
She removed her hand from his. He nodded and shifted the covers just enough to expose her right leg from the thigh down. She spotted the gauze taped to her knee that was now colored red.
Elias carefully lifted the tape. His touch was light, tender. She had tensed, waiting for the pain, but there was none. She saw the jagged cut that ran from the bottom of her knee upwards at a diagonal toward the inside of her thigh. It throbbed in time with her head now.
He dropped the gauze and slid his gaze to hers. “You have two options. I can bandage this now and you can dress. Or I can help you to the bathroom if you wish to shower. Then I’ll see to the wound.”
“The latter option, please.” She felt grimy, and she wanted to wash away her encounter with Sydney.
“Do you want to finish the toast?”
Bronwyn shook her head and tried to sit up more. She gritted her teeth at the pain that cut through her. The room began to spin. Suddenly, Elias was there.
“Easy. Easy,” he whispered, his voice close to her ear. “Hold on to me. That’s it. Give yourself a moment to let the pain pass.”
The dizziness had passed. But in its place was heat that had nothing to do with her injuries.
“Better?” he asked.
Bronwyn nodded, afraid to use her voice.
Elias helped swing her legs over the side of the bed before wrapping an arm around her. It was a mistake to allow herself to be tucked against him as she was, but she didn’t have the will to move away.
“Now, let’s get you on your feet.”
My God, his voice was so seductive he could probably get her to do anything he wanted. She locked her gaze on the fire, trying to tune out the fact that his bare skin was now against hers.
The warmth of his flesh called to her. She wound her arm around him, careful to keep away from his bruise. It felt so good that she leaned toward him, then she jerked her head up.
“It’s okay. Lean on me,” he urged.
But she knew it was better if she didn’t.
His eyes, his voice, and his body were doing too many strange things to her. She had to get her head right again. It didn’t matter how sexy-as-fuck he was. Elias didn’t need to be mixed up in the shite storm that was her life.
She was so focused on that thought that when she took her first step on her left ankle, she bent over in pain. Which in turned shot pain from her knee to her head and ribs. If Elias hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen.
“Take your time,” he told her softly.
Bronwyn had gone only a few inches, and her body was covered in sweat from the agony of her injuries. She was glad she hadn’t eaten more. As it was, her stomach was rebelling.
Elias steered her around the end of the sofa bed but paused. “You’re going to need this,” he said as he grabbed the blanket from his chair and wrapped it around her. “It might be easier if I carry you.”
Nay! She was having a difficult enough time standing pressed against him. She wouldn’t be able to handle being in his arms. “I’ll be fine.”
“Do you want energy to walk or shower?” he asked simply. “Because I’ll be happy to stand in the shower and keep you on your feet.”
Bloody hell. He had a point. Still, she hesitated. “I’ll shower alone.”
“That’s what I thought.”
His voice held a smile. She didn’t look at him, even though she wanted to. The next thing she knew, he had shifted to the side and bent, placing one arm behind her back and the other under her knees. He lifted her effortlessly and with minimal pain. That allowed her to wrap the blanket around herself so only her lower legs and feet were exposed.
But as soon as they left the parlor, her feet chilled to the point they hurt. Elias’s strides were long, and his steps didn’t jar her too much. Soon enough, they were in the bathroom. He set her on the closed toilet lid and straightened. That was when she saw that he was barefoot.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.
He chuckled as he turned on the shower. “Aye, it’s chilly. How hot do you want the water?”
“Near to scalding.” When he shot her a look, Bronwyn shrugged. “It’s how I warm up.”
“Fair enough,” he murmured. It wasn’t long before steam began filling the room. Elias walked to the door and paused with his hand on the handle. “I’ll be right outside. Call if you need me. And doona overdo it. The heat might feel good, but too much isna good with your injuries.”
“I’ll be fine.” When he didn’t leave, she shot him a look. “I heard you.”
The door closed softly behind him. Bronwyn blew out a breath, then regretted it at the sharp pain that lanced her rib cage. She let the blanket fall away and used the counter to steady herself as she got to her feet. She removed the bandage and grimaced at the droplets of blood from her knee that were now on her favorite blanket. She glanced at herself in the mirror and grimaced again.
She looked horrible. Her face was pale, her hair was a tangled mess, and she had dried blood along her hairline. She leaned toward the mirror and inspected the cut and bandage on her forehead. That explained the headache.
Bronwyn unhooked her bra and let it fall from her arms. Then she pushed her panties down her hips in slow movements to prevent more pain. It felt like forever before she was beneath the water. Once there, she sighed as the spray moved over her body, easing her aches and washing away the blood and grime from the battle the night before.
Battle. She snorted and shook her head. It wasn’t much of a fight. Her spells on the house needed to be upgraded to prevent more than just people from entering. She didn’t want to be caught like that again. Nothing should’ve gotten through her wards. Nothing. Yet the rain had. That meant Sydney had a water dancer with him.
It was only because of Elias that she was alive. Oh, Sydney wouldn’t have killed her. No. He would’ve tortured her for however long it took for her to break and spill where Beth was hiding. Bronwyn was all too acquainted with the lengths Sydney would go to in order to get what he wanted. She had helped him at one time. But that was before she’d discovered just what kind of man he was.
Bronwyn washed her hair and body, which took twice as long with her injuries. By the time she turned off the water, she was barely able to stand. She sat on the toilet and dried off, only to realize that she hadn’t brought any clothes.
There was a soft knock, then Elias’s voice came through the door. “I’m sorry for digging through your stuff, but I have clothes for you. I wasn’t sure what you might want, though. I grabbed the first things I could find.”
She had never been so thankful to have someone dig through her things than she was right then. She wrapped the towel around her body. “Thanks. You can come in.”
The door opened a crack to show his face. His gaze caught hers before his body emerged, fully clothed now. He looked her over quickly and set the pile of clothes on the sink counter. “You good?”
She was far from good, but she could get dressed on her own. “Aye.”
“I’ll go get the first-aid kit.” He flashed a grin and left.
Why was she disappointed that he was no longer shirtless? Bronwyn rolled her eyes at herself then leaned over to grab the bra and panties. Next were the fuzzy purple socks with black cats. They were her favorites that she had gotten last Halloween. Only then did she tackle the sweatshirt and sweatpants.
She used the towel to cover her knee to keep the blood from getting on her pants. Once everything was in place, she told him he could come back in. Elias must have been near the door because it opened almost immediately. He said nothing as he sat on his haunches before her and pulled up her right pant leg. He dabbed the cut with the towel, then set about cleaning the wound before reaching for the bandages.
“I doona think you broke the kneecap, but it’s bruised for sure. That combined with the cut will make walking fun.” Elias glanced up as he taped the bandage over her knee. “I was worried you might have sprained your ankle last night, but that swelling is gone. How does it feel?”
“Sore but manageable.”
“Any other injuries?”
She kept her breathing light and shallow. “Ribs.”
“Ah,” he said and flattened his lips. “With the way you hit your SUV’s grill, I’m no’ surprised.”
“You have a rather spectacular bruise yourself.”
He chuckled. “I’m fairly certain I have at least one cracked rib.”
“And you carried me?”
“You weigh nothing.”
“That isn’t the point.”
He ignored her as he rose to his knees and checked the butterfly bandage at her hairline. “It’s exactly the point. If it had been too painful, I wouldna have done it. That looks good. Now,” he said as he sat back on his haunches again, “anything else hurt?”
Did he mean besides her ego? “I’m good, thanks.”
Chapter Twelve
Elias was waiting when Bronwyn exited the bathroom. He had left her to brush her teeth and hair. She held herself stiffly, alerting him to her discomfort. He almost offered to carry her back to the parlor but suspected she would refuse.
“As you can see, I’m getting around myself. You can leave now.”
He had agreed to just that. He didn’t want to walk out of the house for several reasons, but he decided not to use any of them as excuses. His need to aid Bronwyn was too great to ignore, and in order to do that, he needed her to trust him. The only way to gain that was to keep his word.
He met her gaze and saw the argument waiting on her lips. “Aye. Let me get my shoes.”
Surprise flickered across her face.
Elias walked past her toward the parlor room, glancing at the newel as he did. She had brought up the blood magic, and he hadn’t pursued it. Now, he wished he had. Timing was everything, though, and he’d had to pick and choose what he pushed her on. Making sure her injuries were seen to had been more important. Next time—and there would be a next time—he would get the answers he sought.
He grabbed his boots and sat in the chair to put them on when the unmistakable sound of a vehicle rolling over gravel made him jerk his head up.
“Who did you call?” Bronwyn demanded from just inside the door. It clicked softly closed behind her, accentuating her question.
Elias stood, his gaze on the windows. “No one. I lost my mobile during the skirmish, and I didna want to leave the house last night in case I couldna get back in.” He chanced a look at her to see Bronwyn’s eyes wide, her fear tangible.
“The…bodies,” she whispered, stricken.
He frowned as he walked to her. “What bodies?”
“Sydney and his people who came for me.”
So that was the bastard’s name. “Rest easy, lass. I didna kill them.”
Her brows snapped together in shock. “You didn’t?”
“Nay, I didna.”
“Oh.” She sagged against the door. “Then they’ll return.”
Which was one of the reasons he wanted to stay. “I take it you’re no’ expecting anyone?”
“No one comes here.”
He walked to one of the windows and peered out. The minute he spotted the Range Rover in British racing green, he grinned. Then he remembered Bronwyn. He turned to her, trying to figure out what to say so she would allow the Knights inside. “It’s my friends. They must have tried to get in touch with me. When they couldna, they likely traced my mobile here. They’re good people.”
“I’m just supposed to take your word for that? I don’t even know you.”
“We can help—if you let us.”
She shook her head and stepped away, but he saw how she held onto the wall and limped, favoring her right knee. “You promised to go. I need you to do that and take your friends with you.”
A knock sounded on the door.
Elias noted the determined glint in her eyes. Bronwyn wouldn’t change her mind, but that didn’t mean he’d give up protecting her. Danger came at her from all sides, and she either didn’t know or didn’t care. He remembered the young girl from years ago who had been tripped. The sadness, anger, and embarrassment she couldn’t hide when he helped her to her feet.
