“Lash.” The smile returned to her eyes, and his heartbeat settled. “What an interesting name.”
“It’s Romany.” He meant to shock her, maybe even scare her off, but it appeared he accomplished the opposite.
“Romany?” she inquired. Her eyes lit up in intrigue, then rounded. “As in a gypsy traveler?”
“Romany,” Lash corrected.
“They are the same, are they not?”
“We do not care for the term gypsy,” Lash said, clearing his throat. “Were you the one who found me?”
She nodded. “Good thing, too. Your wound would have claimed your life.”
Something in Lash’s chest expanded. Not loathing, as he expected, but something akin to gratefulness. Because of her, he would live to find Syeira.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Think nothing of it,” she murmured. “You will stay with us until you regain full strength.”
“No,” Lash protested, attempting to sit, the walls of the chamber seeming to fold in on him. “I cannot stay here.”
Her hands reached out to rest on his shoulders, pushing him back into the mattress. He allowed it, only because hewasweak, and the strength it would take to fight her would weaken him more.
“You are not healed enough,” she scolded.
“How long have I been here?”
“Four days.”
Four days!Mierda! No wonder it felt as though a hole had been chewed in his stomach. But a more pressing question burned in his mind.
“Why did you save me?” Lash asked. “A virtual stranger.”
She looked puzzled at the question. “You were hurt.”
“You saw the wound,” Lash pointed out. “My assailant could have been nearby and hurt you, as well. You risked your life for me.”
“I’m quite accomplished at fighting off brigands with my sharp wit,” she teased.
Lash withheld a snort. The woman wasdinilo. Crazy.
“And if you are worried about your safety, be at ease, no one here will betray your presence. Well,” she amended after a short pause, “at least not until my brothers return from Edinburgh. Then I suspect there will be quite the line clamoring to tattle on me.”
“Why would there be a line?”
“My brothers are quite intimidating and servants curry favor at times.”
Lash found himself transfixed by the sensual arch of her lips. The way she smiled at him—it hit him square in the chest.
“What of your reputation? Will it not be ruined caring for me?” His gaze flicked to the half-open door. “You are alone with me in a bedchamber.”
She waved his concern away. “My reputation can survive healing an injured man.”
Her reputation was the last thing she ought to be worried about.Danior. His brother will not stop until he had irrefutable confirmation of Lash’s death, of that he was certain.
Had she said her brothers were gone? Who protected her? Servants? An ailing aunt? If that was the case, Lash had to part with some truth, enough that she understood the peril.
“The man who plunged the knife in my chest,” he paused when her eyes widened. “He will not stop.”
