Page 4 of Echoes of a Forgotten Warrior (A Highland Ruse of Love #2)

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T he day was less busy than usual, for which she was thankful, but just as Blaire was allowing herself to rest, there was a knock at the front door, and her heart sank, since she had been hoping for an early night.

When she opened the door, she was surprised to find James standing outside, looking weak and exhausted.

“James—I told you to stay in bed,” she said, frowning in disapproval. “You can go back to work tomorrow, and even then, I think it is too soon.”

“I slept for a wee while this afternoon,” James answered as he stepped over the threshold. “But I had a terrible nightmare and I feel restless. I did not know where else to go. You are the one I thought of.”

He looked so sad and desperate as Blaire gazed at him that she had to resist the urge to fold him in her arms and beg him to cry on her shoulder. Pity for him washed over her. Granted, there had been times when he had come to sit and bare his soul to her before, but hitherto she had never seen him in quite such bad shape.

Blaire drew him inside and took his hands in hers, then looked into his ice-blue eyes, which were now dark with misery. “Come,” she said softly, as she drew him further into the room. “You need to relax and let me take care of you, but it won’t help if you keep disobeying my orders. Sleep is one of the best healers, and I always recommend it for a troubled spirit.”

She ushered him into a chair by the fire, tucked a soft blanket over his lap, then fetched him a glass of red wine. It was not the best vintage in the world—in fact, she had been told that it was only marginally better than the stuff she used to disinfect wounds—but neither of them was a connoisseur.

James accepted the wine gratefully and sipped it, resisting the impulse to toss it down his throat in one go. However, in the warmth of the room and the presence of the woman he cared for the most in the world, it tasted like nectar. He was still smarting from the memory of his nightmare, but here in Blaire’s home it seemed much easier to bear.

Presently, she asked, “Have you had anything to eat?” Her voice was gentle and concerned as she sat down opposite James and looked at him anxiously.

He shook his head. “I have not been able to,” he answered with a sigh.

“Then when did you last eat?” Blaire asked, frowning deeply. She was really worried about him now, since she had seen the amount of food James could eat at one sitting. He was a big man with a huge appetite, and she had seen him polishing off three helpings of a meal without blinking, and washing it down with several pints of ale.

“I had some porridge at breakfast time,” he answered sheepishly.

“And nothing since?” Blaire was alarmed.

“No,” he said dully.

He sipped the wine again, mainly because Blaire wanted him to drink it rather than because he was enjoying it.

Blaire knelt down in front of him and tilted his chin up so that he could see her frowning face. “Now you will eat,” she told him firmly. “Even if I have to tie you to a chair and force-feed you.”

The ridiculous image of himself trussed up and lashed to a chair made him laugh, and Blaire smiled in response.

“Don’t think I’m jesting,” she warned him. “I have had bigger men than you tied to a table, so I can take a tooth out!” She became brisk. “I have some mutton stew and bannocks left over from dinner time. After that, I can give you some clootie dumpling if you still have room for it.”

Suddenly, James’s stomach answered for him as it gave a mighty growl, and they both laughed.

“I will take that as a ‘yes’,” Blaire said.

She fetched a cushioned footstool and placed it under his feet, then tucked the blanket more tightly around him.

As she straightened up, James caught her face in his hands and pulled her down to give her a tender kiss. “One day I will be able to repay you,” he told her. “I have no idea how, but I will.”

“Just get well,” Blaire answered. “That is thanks enough. Now sit there and finish your wine.” She moved away, and ran her tongue over her lips, which were still tingling, even though the kiss had been gentle rather than passionate.

She could cope without the passion, she thought, as long as James continued to treat her tenderly and lovingly. She smiled at the thought of their first kiss, which had been rather rushed and wild due to their burning desire, but they had soon learned how to please each other.

James took great pleasure in watching Blaire’s graceful movements around the kitchen as she prepared the food. The delicious smell of the food was making his mouth water, he was within sight and touching distance of the woman he loved, and he was comfortably warm. He sighed in contentment.

Presently, just as he was beginning to doze off, Blaire brought a steaming bowl of fragrant stew on a tray and put it down gently on his lap. There were two large bannocks beside it, each one slathered thickly with butter, and he dipped one of them into the thick savoury gravy and tore it apart with his teeth. He made a long moan of appreciation before wolfing down the rest of the bread and meat with unseemly haste and with no regard to dignity or etiquette.

Blaire watched him with fondness and some amusement. She loved to see someone enjoying their food—especially food that she had cooked. She sat on a chair opposite James with a pile of mending on her lap. It was good to be using her time productively because Blaire hated having idle hands, and being able to watch James at the same time made her rather tedious task far more enjoyable.

James thought he had never eaten a more delicious meal in his life, and when he was finished, he sat back and let out a sigh of satisfaction, then began to get to his feet, but Blaire pressed him back down firmly.

“Stay there,” she ordered, taking away his tray. A moment later she came back with another plate, this one full of clootie dumpling, a rich, spicy fruit pudding covered in cream.

James had not thought it possible to squeeze any more food into his stomach, but when he smelled and saw his favourite dessert sitting steaming on a plate before him, he suddenly found some extra space! Again, he made short work of the food, and when he had cleaned his plate, he was astonished when Blaire put another glass of wine into his hands.

“What have I done to deserve all this?” he asked, looking up at her in amazement.

“I am making the end of a bad day better, I hope,” she replied. “But I haven’t finished yet. Drink your wine while I prepare the treatment room. I have another way of helping you relax.”

She walked into the room where she attended to the needs of the villagers and beckoned him to follow her a few moments later.

Blaire indicated the bed on which she treated her patients, then said, “Take your clothes off.”

James would have been less shocked if a lightning bolt had struck him at that moment.

“Take my—what?” he squeaked.

Blaire was trying to look as though she were completely unaffected by him, even though the thought of seeing James naked was doing very strange things to her heartbeat.

“I want to massage you,” she told him. “But I cannot do it while you are wearing clothes, so please take them off. If you feel awkward, rest assured that I have seen naked men plenty of times in my line of work.”

But I have never seen you, she thought wickedly.

James continued to stare at her for another moment, then nodded and began to slowly undress, all the while looking at the floor to avoid Blaire’s eyes as he took off each one of his garments except the one under his kilt. He could feel that his cheeks were flaming with embarrassment, but at the same time, the thought of Blaire seeing him naked was strangely arousing.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought of what that would do to his body, and as he let everything but his breeches drop to the floor, he hastily covered himself with his hands.

Blaire’s lips parted as she looked at him. As she had told him, Blaire had seen many naked men in the course of her work, and she had often wondered what James would look like unclothed. The reality was utterly magnificent.

She knew, obviously, that he was a big man because his height and the breadth of his shoulders were visible to everyone, but without his clothes on he looked like a giant.

Blaire ran her gaze down his body, taking in his broad, flat chest with its fine dusting of soft dark hair and his narrow waist and hips. Then she took in his muscled arms, powerful thighs and calves, and the ripple of tiny muscles that ran from below his chest to his navel. To her disappointment, he had cupped his hands over the bulge of his manhood under the thin garment, but she tore her mind away from the thought of what was underneath them and instructed him to lie on the bed face down.

“Relax your muscles as much as you can,” she said, and felt the hardness of his shoulder muscles soften under her hands. “And think of things that make you happy.”

You make me happy, James thought.

Blaire’s own body was beginning to thrum with awareness and arousal. James was so utterly beautiful she could hardly believe he was here, completely at her mercy. It gave her a strange sense of elation to know the power she had over him at that moment.

As she worked her way down his body, Blaire came to his buttocks, which were firm and unyielding under her fingers, and she felt a sweet, pleasant pulse beginning to beat between her legs. At that moment, she wanted him more than anything else she had ever wanted in her life, but she forced the wicked thoughts out of her mind and made herself concentrate on the task at hand.

She massaged the hard muscles of his calves down to his feet, then took a deep breath and said, “Turn over, please.”

James closed his eyes and did as he had been told, then he felt a cloth being draped over his hips. He let out a deep sigh of relief and opened them again, to find himself staring straight into Blaire’s emerald eyes. For a moment, it seemed that there were only the two of them in the whole world, as a current of attraction passed between them, then, abruptly, Blaire shook her head and turned away, unable to go on. Beginning a sexual relationship with James in his current mental state was not a good idea, and both of them knew it, no matter how they felt.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Blaire said as she washed her hands. “Please come and tell me about your dream.”

She left the room, allowing James to dress himself in privacy.

James was almost painfully aroused, but as he put his clothes back on again, he slowly regained control of himself. When he was fully dressed, he closed his eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths to calm down and made his way back into the front room.

Blaire was standing by the fire, holding her hands out to it to warm them. She seemed to be whispering to herself, and he wondered what she was saying.

In fact, she had been talking very quietly to herself about James. “What was I thinking?” Blaire asked herself furiously. “He is the most beautiful man you have ever known, and you are putting temptation in your own way by doing this. You’re an idiot, Blaire. He is a fragile man. He is a broken man.”

He cleared his throat to alert her to his presence, not wanting to startle her, but he did. She whipped around, her eyes wide, looking embarrassed at having been caught doing such an apparently foolish thing. She was blushing furiously.

Did he hear what I was saying? she thought. She thought not, but it was still an unsettling notion. Firmly, Blaire put it out of her mind.

James smiled at her. “Sometimes the best conversations you have are with yourself,” he told her.

Blaire laughed sheepishly. “I talk to myself a lot,” she confessed, “but mostly when no one is here.” She walked past him and said, “Now tell me about your dream.”

They sat down again, and James’s head slumped as he thought about what he was going to say. Blaire took hold of his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze, and he began to speak.

“It was almost dark,” he said. “I was running, chasing something, but I have no idea what it was. All I know is that I absolutely had to find it. I think my life depended on it. Suddenly, a lot of soldiers came out of the twilight, and I remember being scared to death. They didn’t come upon me altogether, thank god, but in ones and twos, and I fought them all off—I have no idea how I found the strength, but I did, and one by one I slaughtered them.

When I dealt with the last one, and I could see that no more of them were coming after me, I fell down on the ground on my knees. I felt as though I could not go on. I had no power, no strength, but I knew I had to find whatever I was seeking, so I stumbled to my feet and began to walk.

I was covered in blood, both the enemy’s and mine, and I think I was in the middle of a forest. Anyway, there were countless trees around, and I could see very little. I kept looking back to see if I could make out any of the enemy soldiers who might have survived, but I could see almost nothing.”

He paused for a moment, frowning, his eyes narrowing as he peered back into the past. “Then, in front of me, I could just about make out the shape of a carriage, and I felt elated because I knew with absolute certainty that whatever I was seeking was in there. I started to run, and I threw myself into the carriage—then nothing. I remember nothing after that, just darkness.”

Blaire knelt down in front of him. “I think what you were seeking is your true identity,” she said gently. “I am not an expert in how the mind works, of course—I don’t think anyone is, but it seems to make sense. You feel this way every time you are injured, and I think it is a sign of something.”

James nodded in agreement. “I need to find out who I am,” he said, putting his face in his hands. “Not knowing is killing me. But, Blaire, what if I never find out? What if I die not knowing who I am?”

Blaire felt infinitely sorry for James. It must be hell to not even know your own name, since a name was not just a way of identifying someone, but your whole history. His entire past was attached to James’s real name. If he could not remember it, his past had gone with it; memories of his boyhood, his family, all the joys and sorrows of his life—all had been wiped out. It would be as if nothing had enlisted before this moment.

“We’ll get your name back,” she told him, with more certainty than she felt.

“How?” he asked. His voice was hopeful, but Blaire knew that her assurances had been half-hearted to say the least. She had no idea where to start.

“We will start with your last memory and work from there,” she answered, “and if effort and determination have anything to do with it, I know we will succeed.”

“What would I do without you?” James whispered, and then because he simply could not help himself, he kissed her. They had done so before, but they had been simple, soft kisses, usually stolen when James had drunk a little too much ale. This one was a world apart from those. This was sensual and passionate, as James took possession of Blaire’s mouth as if he had ownership of it.

Her lips were soft and yielding under his, and as he pulled Blaire closer, he tentatively pushed his tongue tip into her mouth. She opened up to him in response, moaning softly with pleasure and desire. James began to caress her lips with his, his mouth moving on hers tenderly as his tongue stroked and teased her tongue.

James pulled her closer, feeling the warm soft flesh of her breasts pressing against him. He was fully aware that she could feel his arousal, but at that moment he did not care.

Blaire was lost in the kiss and never wanted it to end. She gave herself up to the pressure of James’s lips and answered with pleasure and passion. God, this was wonderful.

When they drew apart, James stood up and walked to the door to leave, but paused on the threshold to look at her. “Thank you, Blaire,” he said softly, before venturing out into the night.

Blaire stood looking after him for a few moments. She closed her eyes and put her fingers to her tingling lips, then smiled.