Sharon Schulze - To Tame A Warrior's Heart

She wished she could look away, but she refused to permit herself that act of cowardice.

Yet she could not still her tongue. “You flatter yourself.” She felt his pulse quicken.

“Do I? Since we first met you’ve drawn my attention, Catrin. Whether you meant to or not—for good or ill.”

“I don’t even like you,” she whispered. Her own heart thrummed faster—in fear?

“Nor I you.” Talbot bent close, until his lips brushed her cheek.

His touch caused a strange pang in her stomach. Her mouth dry, she forced her eyes closed to free herself from his gaze.

It made no difference.

If she never saw him again, his face would remain etched upon her mind.

Nicholas eased her hand from his chest and rested it beside her flushed cheek. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself forcing his attentions upon her, her injuries be damned. With a curse, he wrenched his gaze from Catrin’s delicate features and sought to slow his racing heart.

He rose to his feet and turned away from her, lest his body betray him. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “After I take care of the dog, I’ll go out and find food.”

“I’m thirsty,” she replied, looking as if food mattered not a whit

Nicholas all but gnashed his teeth as a familiar tide of frustration swept over him.

The woman had pride enough for God Himself!

’Twas a stupid question he’d asked, at any rate. Since asking her anything had never earned him an answer, he’d do better to simply care for her as he would any stranger, and save himself the aggravation of treating her as though there had ever been—or ever could be—anything more between them.

He tightened the bandage about his arm, the twinge of pain a welcome distraction from the fire raging through his blood, and hastened from the cave.

For once he savored the chill bite of the air against his sweaty chest. He filled the dishes at the stream, then immersed his head in the icy water. His skull felt as if it had been clubbed with a battering ram, although his vision remained clear this morning.

When he returned to the cave, he mixed more of Catrin’s medicinal powder with the water in the cup. She lay sprawled on her stomach as he’d left her, her head resting upon her folded arms, her eyes closed. He placed his hand on her shoulder lest he startle her, waiting until she opened her eyes before raising her from the pallet and bringing the cup to her lips.

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