A Highland Knight to Remember (Highland Dynasty Book 3) by Amy Jarecki Page A

seat gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. He may as well start from where they’d left things in May. “Were you aware my father passed?”
    Slowly, she covered her mouth with her dainty hand. “Oh my, I hadn’t heard. When?”
    “Beltane. My kin were waiting with the news at the footrace finish line.”
    Her delicate eyebrows drew together. “Your kin?”
    “Aye, Jinny the healer and her husband, Angus.”
    Her hand slid to her cheek. “The woman you embraced is married?”
    Sean bit the corner of his lip and grimaced. “You saw that, too?”
    “Aye.” Gyllis blushed scarlet. “After Alan slashed you with the blade, I hastened from the curtain wall to see if I could be of assistance.” She cringed. “When I found you in another woman’s arms…I…I…” She blinked in rapid succession. “And then you didn’t come to the feast nor did you send word.”
    He reached out and held his hand steady for a moment, then took a chance and grasped her palm. Her fingers were cold. “I must ask your forgiveness. I was distraught with the news. Then things fell into mayhem and I was gallivanting around the countryside chasing after thieves and visiting crofters to ensure their loyalty.”
    She stared at their interlaced fingers. “It sounds as if you’ve had a difficult time.”
    Touching her calmed the thrumming beneath his skin. “Nowhere near as troublesome as things have been for you.”
    Gyllis tugged her hand away and rubbed it, refusing to meet his gaze.
    Sean’s fingers throbbed where her hand had been. He wanted to reclaim it and declare his undying love, but that would be nonsensical. If only he could pull her into his arms and make her well again. “I want to help you.”
    She smirked. “What on earth do you think you can do that the monks have not already attempted?”
    He didn’t have an answer. “What treatments have they tried?”
    “Massage mostly, and tinctures that never seem to work.”
    “But your hands have more dexterity than since I last saw you. What about your legs?”
    She harrumphed. “No good whatsoever. I still cannot take a step without falling.”
    “Can you stand?”
    “For a moment.”
    “’Tis a good sign.”
    She looked up. “How do you ken?” The pain in her moss-green eyes was unmistakable.
    Sean’s heart squeezed. He was no healer. “I just do. Besides, you promised me dancing lessons.”
    “Please.” She covered her face with her hands, her long tresses dropping forward. “You are completely daft if you think I shall ever be able to dance again.”
    “Pardon me for being so bold to think you will.” Sean scooted the bench away and kneeled before her. Again he grasped her hand and rubbed it between his warm palms. “Are your hands always this cold?”
    “I suppose, aye.”
    “Please allow me to warm them.” The corner of his mouth ticked up.
    Using her shoulder, she shyly moved a lock of hair from her face. Though the gesture was innocent, it was unbelievably seductive. Had she not appeared so frail, he would have wrapped her in his arms and kissed her lips—ravished them as he’d done in the garden at Beltane.
    Moistening his lips, he lifted her hand and kissed it. Her scent’s more heavenly than a field of heather . “If it would bring you a modicum of comfort, Miss Gyllis, it would be an honor to see you again.”
    She held his gaze for a moment, her bottom lip slipping beneath her top teeth. “Please do not tease me.”
    He drew his eyebrows together. “I would never do anything of the sort.”
    “You are a chieftain now. You said yourself you’ve a great many affairs to attend. The last person you should concern yourself with is a silly cripple.”
    A lump took up residence in his chest. “Do not say that. You are as beautiful today as you were at the festival.”
    She tried to pull her hand away, but he held fast.
    “I want to see you again. Will you please allow it?”
    She drew in a sharp inhale and hesitated for a long moment.