Highland Burn by Victoria Zak Page B

knocked James from his horse. He landed firmly on his back on the hard forest floor. Air rushed out of his lungs and his torso stung as he clamped a hand over the sting to relieve the pain. As he looked at his chest, a red circle crept across his tunic. In the middle of that blood-soaked spot, an arrow shot in perfect accuracy plunged deep into his skin. He had been a target, indeed his heart marked the spot.
    The smell of dirt and blood invaded his senses. He rolled back and forth and arched in pain, but there was no escaping the blazing heat burning through his veins like fire. Confusion hit him hard; one strike from an arrow shouldn’t have caused him this much pain, after all he was immortal. Even after a fatal blow he could fight off death and regain his strength, but this was different. The pain was agony, the blood poured rapidly from his body, and his strength weakened. With his throat dry and swollen, a mere grunt was all James had left in him as he tried to yell for help.
    Darkness was closing in. As he drifted, a vision of Abigale floating in the loch flashed before him. Long auburn hair splayed out around her flawless face, a thin wet shift clung to every curve as the water licked at her delectable body. James remembered how he itched to run his hands over her breasts, feel the hardness of her pebbled peaks, and taste her sweetness. Her body beckoned to be touched. Now it was too late… too late to tell her what a fool he had been… too late to claim her.
    ~~~~~
    At the first crack of light, Abigale was up and ready for the day. She had planned to keep herself busy and rid herself of all thoughts of a certain Highlander. First thing this morn, she had helped in the kitchen preparing the vegetables for the night’s feast and staying clear of anything that involved fire. By noon she had crushed some lavender into a mixture to bathe the smelly dogs. If the hounds from hell were going to be regular visitors in her bedchamber they had to be bathed, for they smelled like a dung heap. As she crumpled the sweet-smelling lavender into a bowl, a little harder than needed, she vowed a few times to hate James Douglas for as long as she lived, especially after last eve’s kiss. It was a good thing he was nowhere in sight, because undoubtedly he would have received the sharp end of her tongue. “Barbarian,” she thought out loud.
    After the challenging experience of bathing Lennox and Mahboon, Abigale made her way into the solar where Alice and Effie sat by the hearth working on their embroidery. Abigale walked in and plopped herself down in a chair with a huff.
    Concern creased Alice’s brows. “What be the worry, lassie?”
    Effie spoke up before Abigale could respond, “Didn’t yer night go well with Laird Douglas?”
    “Effie!” Alice scolded.
    “Nay Alice, ‘tis alright,” Abigale reassured. It was obvious her friends had been worried about her. In fact she hadn’t said a word to them all day. "Nothing happened, I assure ye.” She crossed her arms and blew out a hard breath. “James had too much mead and blacked out.” Purposely, she’d left out the small, yet mortifying detail of how foolish she’d felt kissing him and being turned away. No need to mark herself a total fool.
    Alice snorted and held back a laugh.
    “Alice, do no laugh, Abigale is devastated.” Effie jumped out of her chair, rushed over to Abigale, and embraced her with a sympathetic hug.
    “Effie, I appreciate yer concern, but I’m more mad than devastated. When we first met he told me he didnae want me as a wife. I guess… I mean… I just thought maybe one kiss and he would change his mind.” Abigale shrugged her shoulders and plucked at the hem of her apron. Looking up sheepishly she revealed, “I spent the night in the stables with Fergus."
    All of a sudden the women broke out in laughter. Abigale joined their laughter, for she had to laugh. Frankly she was too flustered by James’s behavior to break down and cry. How could