Eventually, succeeded in her quest, to regain control over rubbery legs and stood on her feet. Be that as it may, the pain that radiated through her body proved to be more than even the strongest could endure. Unfortunate for Skye, the pain claimed its victory.
Youthful legs collapsed and like a sack of feed Skye dropped to the floor, but naught before, a blood, curdling scream escaped the back of her throat. “Please someone help me. Get me out of this wretched place.” Darkness engulfed her mind.
Curled up in the fetal position on the stone floor that was how Andrew found Skye. Aye, he had heard her screams for help.
“Lass, what the Devil were you thinking?” Unexpectedly, Andrew appeared by her side. Long dark lashes fluttered open, and then closed. On one knee, he knelt down; bent forward, measured the rise, fall of her chest, the erratic pants. The lass lay face upward. The sweat-drenched tunic she wore molded like a second skin to a pair of well-shaped breasts. Gently, Andrew’s fingers grazed the soft skin on her neck. The strong beat of her pulse felt beneath his finger pads encouraged sweet relief to rush through his veins.
Startled by the feel from his fingers on her skin, Sky’s body jerked of its own accord. Using the softest tone he could muster Andrew murmured, “Nay, my lady, you must naught move about. The arrow struck you. Its head is wedged deep inside your arm. By the look of things, you were lucky that the bones were missed.” Saw the confusion alight in her eyes. Those blue orbs pled with his, and that powerful guilt launched yet another notch on his honor.
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