Marti Talbott's Highlander Series, Book 1

"Do you think they are following us?"

"'Tis possible, but I do not think so." He was pleased when he heard the water, saw his horse stop and bend down to drink. "Come, I need to look at your arm. It stopped bleeding in the night and we should wash it."

She wiggled her elbow out of his grasp. "I can do it."

"Nay, I will do it."

"I am not a child and I do not need…" she quickly looked around and raised her voice. "You did not bring my horse?"

He grabbed her elbow again and made her turn to face him. "I protect you now with my body, you will ride with me and you will not disobey me!"

"Are we back to that? I do not enjoy being told what to do!"

He practically pulled her to the creek, forced her to sit down in the grass and started to untie the bandage around her arm. "I do not enjoy being disobeyed. You make this more difficult than it needs to be, Charlet."

"Bridget. I am Bridget Cameron, remember?"

He remembered, but all night he kept saying her real name over and over in his mind. He liked it. He liked it very much and he liked her spirit, the color of her hair and the green of her eyes. He just wasn't about to admit it to her. He also noticed her hostile words did not match her movements. She wasn't fighting him at all physically. He unwrapped the bandage and she helped by holding her arm out. He glanced at her face and noticed her glare. "What?"

"How do you propose to guard me with your body while I bathe?"

That was something he had not thought about. But her irritation seemed to help her ignore the pain, so he decided to play with her anger. "I intend to bathe with you."

Her jaw dropped. "You will not!"

"I will not look."

"Like you did not look before? I do not believe you." She hadn't noticed him dip the cloth in the cold water, and when he laid it against her injured arm, she caught her breath.

"I suppose now you are going to cry again."

"I will not."

"Good. Your injury will heal and the pain will be better in a day or two." He noticed a tear run down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away.

She lifted her arm and looked over her shoulder to see the wound for herself. The round puncture wound was not much bigger than the tip of her middle finger and she was relieved. The surrounding area was bruised, but that would heal too. Still, it hurt a lot. "I require more wine than you carry."