Highland Burn: Guardians of Scotland Book 1 by Zak Victoria

Author:Zak, Victoria
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Victoria Zak
Published: 2014-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

13

If you can’t take the heat, don’t tickle the dragon. ~ Anonymous

“Och, lass.” James sucked in a breath. “Touch me like that again and I'll have ye on yer back quicker than I can draw my sword.” He arched a brow. Even though he didn’t want a wife, he still very much desired the lass.

The last two days had proven to him that he indeed liked Abigale's company, and it didn’t help that his dragon was relentless with need as well. He made himself known by stirring inside James’s body, insisting to be around Abigale.

“Ye mean like this.” Abigale blushed as she skimmed her fingers across his ribs, teasing him as she unwrapped his bandages.

James squirmed in reaction. “Aye, bel ange." If only his men could see him now, chuckling like a wee lad, they would tease him relentlessly. Truth be told, he craved her touch a little more than he had the right to.

“My father speaks French, though I never learned. It’s a beautiful language.” She smiled. “He would call me his bel Abigale when he would visit me at the nunnery. I cherished his visits, especially not knowing when he would come again.”

James noticed how Abigale’s mood seemed to sadden when she talked about her father. He put his finger under her chin and lifted her head so he could stare into her blue eyes. Pas aussi belle que vous. James smiled. Indeed, not as beautiful as ye. “My father sent me, my younger brother, and mother to live in Paris when I was nine years old. He wanted our family safe and far away from the English. Bloody Sassenach made my father surrender Castle Douglas.”

“What happened to yer father?”

“He was left to rot in the Tower of London. They called it a traitor’s death.” Hatred lingered in his every word.

“I’m so sorry, James.”

“Aye, me too.” He changed the subject quickly, for bringing up that part of his past was no good. He already felt his dragon growling. “I can assure ye, Abigale, if yer da could have, he would have come to see ye more.”

“It does no’ matter anymore. He had the chance to make it up to me and well—”

“He married ye off to the Bogeyman.” James saw it in her eyes; she, too, did not want this marriage.

“I dinnae mean it that way. I’m happy here.” She looked up and smiled. Abigale unwrapped the last bandage. “Hmmm.” Her brows furrowed as she felt around the wound, examining it.

“What?”

“James, yer wound is healed,” Abigale informed him.

He’d forgotten about his healing abilities. No wonder she looked confused. “Well, that’s because I had an excellent nurse."

“But, the severity of yer wound—”

“Abigale, ye healed me.” His tone was firm.

Knowing better than to push him, Abigale changed the subject. “What was Paris like?”

Bloody hell, what were all the questions? Details of his life in Paris were difficult to explain and now wasn’t the time. He wouldn’t know where to begin, for he’d gone through hell. His mother had died a few months after arriving.

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