Chapter Three #3
“Nay, lass,” he rasped. “The shock of seeing ye barefoot with yer hair tumbling in a wild mass of curls to yer waist has me mind going places I already agreed not to go…until after we are wed.”
“I…er…” Lord, it was hard to think when he said things like that to her. “The water’s hot. I’ll make that tea and see about the broth for you.”
“I’d rather have the jam and buttered bread.”
“That was not what Dr. Wolcock said you could have for the first two days.”
“Bugger what the doctor said! My gut’s so empty, I’m surprised ye cannot hear the echo of it grumbling.”
He started to rise, and Eileen pointed at him to stay seated. “If you get up, I won’t be able to make the tea, or mayhap butter a slice or two of bread.”
“What about the spiced jam?”
She waited, and when he lowered himself on the cot, she nodded. “I may let you have that jam and bread if you stay put.”
He rolled his eyes—a funny sight because of Flaherty’s size and obvious strength, despite his injuries. His stomach growled. “Have ye no pity for a starving man?”
She countered, “Only if he listens to reason.”
Flaherty shook his head. “Fine, then. I’ll sit and let ye wait on me hand and foot.
Though by all the saints, ye should be the one on this cot, resting after yer heroics on the beach.
” His gaze met hers, and the desire she’d glimpsed before was still there, simmering below the surface.
“If ye agree to join me in having a slice or two of bread and jam with a cup of tea, then I won’t be telling yer da that ye look dead on yer feet and need yer rest.”
Eileen glanced at the cottage door and sighed. “Fine, but only because Da will be back any minute. I’ll set everything out on the table by the cookstove. But you cannot get up until he’s here to help you and ensure you don’t keel over from lack of food.”
His smile warmed her from the inside out.
Charm oozed from the man’s pores, and she was definitely not immune to it.
She busied herself with measuring out the tea and pouring hot water into the teapot.
Once it was steeping, she sliced the round of bread and set out three plates, along with the dish of butter and a small pot of jam.
Flaherty watched her every move, which had her belly fluttering again.
The man had a potent effect on her. “You distracted me, Flaherty.” She sighed and walked over to the washbowl on the sideboard.
It needed to be emptied, and the linens set to soaking in one of the buckets beside the washstand.
“I’ll just be a minute.” She gathered the bloodstained linens first and put them in the pail.
She would add the hot water after her father returned.
The sight of so much blood—Flaherty’s blood—had her head feeling light. Before she lost her balance, she placed a hand on the top of the sideboard to steady herself.
“Lean on me, lass.”
She blinked. When had he risen from the cot? “You’re supposed to be sitting.”
“And ye’re near to keeling over from exhaustion, overexertion, and hunger, lass. The longer we stand here arguing, the better the chances of one or both of us landing on the floor in time for yer da to come back in and find us tangled in a heap, wondering what we were doing while he was gone.”
There was no use trying to argue with the man. Eileen gave in and allowed him to lead her to the other side of the room. “How will I serve the tea?”
“I like it strong. We’ll wait for yer da. All it’ll take is one look at yer pale face, and he’ll sum up the situation.” He urged her to sit on the cot first, then joined her. The heat pouring off him warmed her and had her leaning against him. “Are you always this warm?” she asked.
“All the time, lass. Are ye always this cold?”
“Only after I’ve had to wade into the Celtic Sea to save one of the duke’s guard before the waves took him under.”
His expression was serious. “And here I have yet to thank ye for saving me life.” He placed the tip of his finger beneath her chin and tilted it up. “I’m going to kiss ye, lass.”
She frowned. “Shouldn’t you ask me first?”
He lowered his lips until they were a breath away from hers. “Nay.” He molded his mouth to hers and kissed her as if his life depended upon it. Mayhap it did. He increased the intensity until she was clinging to him like a barnacle to the bottom of a ship!
“I’ll have that tea—” Her father shut the door before she realized he had entered their cottage. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Flaherty nipped her bottom lip before answering, “Kissing me intended. Thanking her for saving me life.”
Doonan crossed his arms and glared at Flaherty. “There’ll be none of that until after you’re wed.”
Though her limbs ached, Eileen forced herself to leave his embrace to stand. “The tea should be strong enough for the two of you. Come and sit, Da.”
Her father glanced at the table. “I see you’ve set it for three.”
“I thought it wise, given how loudly his stomach growled a few moments ago.”
“I’m surprised ye didn’t hear it outside,” Flaherty added.
Her father finally relaxed his shoulders and shook his head.
“Many’s the time I’d come home sporting an injury, or three, and first thing I did after yer mum patched me up was to fill the hole in my gut.
” He eyed Flaherty, then added, “I take it you are steady enough to help my daughter to the table. She looks pale and shaky. Why didn’t you sit down earlier, Eileen?
I could have helped Dr. Wolcock dress Flaherty’s wounds. ”
“I was fine until after I changed out of my damp things and put the bloodied linens and bowl of water in the bucket near the door,” she said. “But I didn’t have time to add the hot water to let the linens soak. Would you mind adding it to the bucket and emptying the bowl of water for me?”
“Not at all—after you have that tea and something to eat.”
The heat of Flaherty’s hand at her waist branded her. As he helped her to sit, it surprised her that she did not mind his touch. She reveled in it.
When Flaherty moved toward the teapot, Da waved at him. “Sit down, Flaherty. I’ll pour the tea, if my daughter will serve the bread.”
“Yes, Da.” She passed the butter and jam to Flaherty, who took his time sniffing at them before using the knife to spread both on his bread. He paused and looked at her and then her father. “Waiting is the hardest part, lass. This looks delicious.”
“Eat.”
Flaherty immediately wolfed down two slices, thick with butter and jam. He licked his lips and sighed. “As good as me ma’s…but don’t be telling her I said so.” He eyed the plate of sliced bread. “May I have another slice?”
She wasn’t sure it was wise, but the poor man appeared ravenous. “I should make you wait at least a quarter of an hour.”
“Are ye after killing me, lass?”
Eileen snorted with laughter and winced. Snorting was very unladylike.
“Never hold yer laughter in,” Flaherty said. “’Twill make ye sour and ill-tempered!”
“I have never been ill-tempered in my life!”
Her father choked on the bread he swallowed. Flaherty reached over and whacked him on the back until it cleared. “Well now,” he said, staring from father to daughter, “judging from yer da’s reaction, I’m thinking ye may have more than a bit of temper, lass.”
She enjoyed getting a rise out of Flaherty. “Well then, I’m thinking that you will surely find out once we are married!”
His eyes flashed blue fire for the second time in as many hours. “’Twill be a pleasure.”
Eileen wasn’t quite so certain of that. Time would tell.