Return of the Warrior by Kinley MacGregor

Author:Kinley MacGregor [MacGregor, Kinley]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi, pdf
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780060565435
Google: I8opoYWOJ9EC
Amazon: 0060565438
Barnesnoble: 0060565438
Goodreads: 714587
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2004-12-31T13:00:00+00:00

Christian sat alone on his cot as he listened to the men outside who were still packing their wares to leave in the morning. He grimaced while he held a cloth to the wound on his rib, which was bleeding again.

Leaning his head back against the post that was behind him, he closed his eyes. As his thoughts drifted, they focused on the face of his tormentor. Only this wasn’t the tormentor from the past. It was the one from his present.

Adara. Queen, lady, temptress, dungeon mistress. Indeed, she might as well learn to use torture devices—they would hurt no less than the wiles she used on him.

“You’re bleeding again?”

He opened his eyes to find said temptress in his tent, nearing his cot. He shrugged. “It’ll stop or it’ll kill me—either way is a winning proposition from my way of thinking.”

“You’re not amusing me, my lord.” She brushed his hand aside to examine his wound. “It looks to be gaining an infection. You need a poultice to draw it out.”

“How is it a queen knows so much about healing?”

She wiped the blood away with his cloth. Her touch was so gentle that it didn’t even scrape the wound. “I have many interests and we have some of the finest Arab physicians at my court. I love to listen to them talk about their science. It fascinates me.”

“And what is it they talk about?”

She left his bed to travel to the table where the leech had left his bandages and herbs. “Well, Omar says that the idea of the body’s humors isn’t right. He doesn’t believe in bloodletting as a way of preserving the balance between them. He thinks the whole concept of the humors is incorrect and that the blood circulates through the body and touches all the major organs of it.”

Christian welcomed the intellectual diversion that took his thoughts away from the pleasurable curve of her backside and on to something less disturbing. “Galen said nothing of blood circulation, nor did Plato.”

She looked at him with a smile. “You’ve read Galen and Plato?”

“Aye, and Constantinus Africanus, Aelfric, Aristotle, and many others.”

By her face, he could tell that thrilled her. She poured some of the herbs into the bowl on the table, then brought it forward. “You are amazingly well studied.”

He scoffed at that. “I grew up in a monastery. There wasn’t much else to do except transcribe and illustrate manuscripts. Brother Ambrose always said that the great works should be preserved for future generations.”

She took the wine from his hand and poured some into her bowl so that she could make a thick paste. “So you can draw, then?”

He nodded as he took the cup back. “I was forever getting into trouble in those days. I would become so fascinated by what I was transcribing that I would forget to copy it and I would start reading instead. Monseigneur Foley would turn bright red in his face, which would make his fluffy white brows stand out like the devil’s horns before he gestured at me to get back to work.

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