“Then youdoknow who assailed you.”
He pressed his lips together in a firm line. He would reveal no more than that.
“No matter,” she said, not questioning him further. “Whoever he is, he will not find you here. And even if he were to discover your whereabouts, Castle MacCallan is well protected.”
“Castle?”
She nodded, her expression bemused. “Do you have a last name?”
“I do.”
Her brows drew together. “I do? I have not heard such a last name before.”
“Now you have.”
“You are being purposely difficult.”
“And you are purposely probing.”
A laugh burst from her lips. His heartbeat stalled. No laugh should sound so carnal.
“You are right, I have been prying,” she confessed. “I’m not normally so forward, but I have never met a man like you.”
“Pray I’m the last.”
“Why?” she asked, leaning over him and reaching for the wrap covering his injury.
He caught her wrist in a firm grip, and she froze, her eyes lifting to search his. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Your wound requires a fresh wrap.” She gave him an imploring look. “Do you wish to tend it yourself?”
He grunted. What the hell was wrong with him? One by one he lifted a finger until she was free from his grasp.
“So,” she murmured as she pulled the material away from his skin and gently cleansed the wound. “What is wrong with men like you?”
“Men like me are no good for women like you.”
Her lips curved. “Like me?”
“Women who live in castles,” Lash clarified, scrutinizing her face as she worked. She had lips so sensual he wanted to lean over and brush his fingers against them. She was so close.
“And have never splashed their pretty slippers in a puddle of mud, I suppose?”
“Don’t forget riding sidesaddle.”
“I see, women secluded in castles are too fragile and cannot manage men like you, so dangerous and big?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm.” Her face pinched in concentration as she dabbed at his wound with a soft, damp cloth.
Then her fingers skimmed across his bare skin.
Pain had nothing on her touch. Lash could handle pain, but the soft graze of her fingers was another matter. It appalled him how profoundly attracted he was to this woman—agadji. That was a problem. A big one.
His kind was not accustomed to denying themselves what they wanted. They walked the road that called to them, choosing to live outside the world ofgadjoand the temptations that came with that life. It defied reason that he should be drawn to this woman as he was.
“Is there anything you need?” she asked once she was done wrapping his wound.
