spread out on the high work table in his cabin and John’s gaze followed as David pointed out where he figured they were and what their best course might be for the completion of the voyage. But his mind’s eye lingered over another vision.
Once Maria had lost consciousness, John had thought he’d have a much easier time finishing up the dressing of her hands, but he’d been wrong.
After carrying her into the other cabin, the Highlander had remained beside her, sitting on the edge of the small bunk. John had gazed on the young beauty, her ivory skin glowing in the flickering lamplight. He’d sat there for longest time, unable to tear himself away, even to retrieve the fresh dressings from the other cabin.
So she had no husband. But for how long had the man been dead? Where they any bairns? Why was she not mourning him? And where was she headed? What relationship existed between Maria and her companion? But he had no way of knowing any of the answers. Not until she confided in him.
Sitting beside her, John forced himself to look once again at the torn flesh of her fingers and palms. The ointment would do its work. But there were more questions that needed to be answered.
From her steady breathing, he could see that sleep had replaced the fainting spell. A wry smile crossed his face, for John knew the reason for her losing consciousness. It was more likely due to her exhaustion and the strong drink he’d given her than any pain from the application of the ointment. She was remarkably tough. But still, he found himself unable to leave her unattended.
Looking carefully at the bruises and the cut on her chin, he decided that they required no dressing. Even those marks did nothing to mar the beauty, nor to dispel the aura of enchantment that surrounded her.
With her hair spread in cascading, ebony waves over the white coverlet, he’d gazed appreciatively at the steady rise and fall of the softly rounded breasts, the pale skin of her throat aglow in the golden light, the full and sensuous lips. His eyes had lingered over those lips, wondering if the taste of them could be as sweet as he imagined it to be.
John shook his head, clearing his brain of the dream, and glanced out at the gray morning fog still blanketing the ship.
“Sure, she is a bonny lass.”
John’s eyes shot up to his navigator’s smiling face. David’s look was full of mischief as he stood across the table, leaning over the maps.
The Highlander supposed he had a great deal to be thankful for. When David had knocked quietly at the cabin door last night, the young navigator had brought with him one of the few serving women aboard. John wondered what his young friend knew of his thoughts.
But with the woman to spend the night looking after the sleeping castaways, there had been no more reason for him to stay. And as he’d parted company with his navigator in the corridor outside the cabin, John had felt a bittersweet sense of relief. This immediate attraction, the pull that he was feeling for her had struck him so quickly. Far too quickly.
“You can ignore me if you like, m’lord,” David continued. “But I still say she’s a bonny thing. And I don’t see you denying it.”
“Who?” John asked casually. “Janet Maule? Nay, David, I don’t deny it. I think she’s quite bon...”
“Nay!” the navigator broke in. “I am speaking of the lass we picked out of the sea. The one that has you spellbound.”
“Spellb—!” John glared at David. “You’re daft, man. What makes you say such a thing?”
“Well, in the past hour, m’lord, I’ve taken you to and from the New World but twice on this chart, and the blasted place isn’t even drawn on it. But you’ve only shaken your head each time over and agreed to everything I’ve been saying. Now that I think on it, perhaps while I was at it, I should have asked for ten pots of gold and a ship of my own.” David grinned at his commander. “You’ve been lost to the world, I’d
Once Maria had lost consciousness, John had thought he’d have a much easier time finishing up the dressing of her hands, but he’d been wrong.
After carrying her into the other cabin, the Highlander had remained beside her, sitting on the edge of the small bunk. John had gazed on the young beauty, her ivory skin glowing in the flickering lamplight. He’d sat there for longest time, unable to tear himself away, even to retrieve the fresh dressings from the other cabin.
So she had no husband. But for how long had the man been dead? Where they any bairns? Why was she not mourning him? And where was she headed? What relationship existed between Maria and her companion? But he had no way of knowing any of the answers. Not until she confided in him.
Sitting beside her, John forced himself to look once again at the torn flesh of her fingers and palms. The ointment would do its work. But there were more questions that needed to be answered.
From her steady breathing, he could see that sleep had replaced the fainting spell. A wry smile crossed his face, for John knew the reason for her losing consciousness. It was more likely due to her exhaustion and the strong drink he’d given her than any pain from the application of the ointment. She was remarkably tough. But still, he found himself unable to leave her unattended.
Looking carefully at the bruises and the cut on her chin, he decided that they required no dressing. Even those marks did nothing to mar the beauty, nor to dispel the aura of enchantment that surrounded her.
With her hair spread in cascading, ebony waves over the white coverlet, he’d gazed appreciatively at the steady rise and fall of the softly rounded breasts, the pale skin of her throat aglow in the golden light, the full and sensuous lips. His eyes had lingered over those lips, wondering if the taste of them could be as sweet as he imagined it to be.
John shook his head, clearing his brain of the dream, and glanced out at the gray morning fog still blanketing the ship.
“Sure, she is a bonny lass.”
John’s eyes shot up to his navigator’s smiling face. David’s look was full of mischief as he stood across the table, leaning over the maps.
The Highlander supposed he had a great deal to be thankful for. When David had knocked quietly at the cabin door last night, the young navigator had brought with him one of the few serving women aboard. John wondered what his young friend knew of his thoughts.
But with the woman to spend the night looking after the sleeping castaways, there had been no more reason for him to stay. And as he’d parted company with his navigator in the corridor outside the cabin, John had felt a bittersweet sense of relief. This immediate attraction, the pull that he was feeling for her had struck him so quickly. Far too quickly.
“You can ignore me if you like, m’lord,” David continued. “But I still say she’s a bonny thing. And I don’t see you denying it.”
“Who?” John asked casually. “Janet Maule? Nay, David, I don’t deny it. I think she’s quite bon...”
“Nay!” the navigator broke in. “I am speaking of the lass we picked out of the sea. The one that has you spellbound.”
“Spellb—!” John glared at David. “You’re daft, man. What makes you say such a thing?”
“Well, in the past hour, m’lord, I’ve taken you to and from the New World but twice on this chart, and the blasted place isn’t even drawn on it. But you’ve only shaken your head each time over and agreed to everything I’ve been saying. Now that I think on it, perhaps while I was at it, I should have asked for ten pots of gold and a ship of my own.” David grinned at his commander. “You’ve been lost to the world, I’d
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