Ecstasy (Notorious 4)

“No, devil take it!” he retorted. “I am certain to be crippled for life.”

Remorse filling her, Raven set the pistol down on the table and moved to the bedside. “Let me see.”

When he growled a protest and made to rise, she pressed him back down with her palm, finding his chest firmly muscled beneath the crispness of his shirt. Keenly aware of his masculinity, she bent over him and pushed his hand away from his leg so she could inspect the injury. She uncovered a gash perhaps an inch long on the side of his thigh.

“It doesn’t look too deep… Certainly not a mortal wound as you claimed.”

“I am devastated to disappoint you.”

His reply was rough with pain and edged with hostility.

“There is no call for you to be so nasty, Mr. Lasseter. I am sorry I hurt you-”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Her cheeks flushed with hot anger. “I think I was entirely justified in shooting you.”

“That is purely a matter of opinion. You could have deprived me of my manhood, if not put a period to my existence.”

“It is only a flesh wound,” Raven said defensively. “I could have injured you far worse had I wished to.”

“Regrettably you will have to be satisfied with my bleeding to death.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “You are trying to make me feel guilty, aren’t you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

He raised a sardonic smile to her glare, which only increased her vexation. When her fingers curled reflexively on his thigh, he flinched and grasped her hand to hold it away.

Raven abruptly went still. A shimmering awareness of danger of another kind filled the air as she met his glittering gaze.

Kell felt the same danger and cursed silently. His wound was far from lethal but painful enough to aggravate the devil out of him, so how could he possibly be feeling aroused at her mere touch? But there was no question his cock was swelling into an unmistakable erection. His only excuse was that he’d just spent a long, excruciating night of unsated hunger with this blue-eyed spitfire…

Gritting his teeth, he damned her for causing him such pain, equally damning himself for wanting her so much. Intent on driving her away, Kell deliberately reached up and pulled his shirttail from his breeches. To his satisfaction, Raven Kendrick gave a start and jumped back.

“What are you doing?”

“Removing my breeches so I can see to my wound.” He sent her a challenging glance. “Don’t worry, Miss Kendrick. I don’t intend to assault you. I prefer my women warm and willing.”

Her chin lifted. “Will you please stop calling me Miss Kendrick in that odious tone?”

“What would you have me call you? Vixen? She-devil?”

When she merely looked daggers at him, he grinned tauntingly. “If you don’t want your sensibilities offended, you had best turn your back. But first bring me that basin and pitcher of water.”

With unaccustomed meekness, Raven did as she was bid, carrying the basin to the nightstand beside the bed, then fetching the pitcher and a towel. When Lasseter gave her a hard look, she scurried across the room to stand before the hearth, keeping her back to him.

She heard a rustle of clothing, then heard him swear as evidently he peeled the fabric of his breeches and drawers away from the wound.

Raven bit her lower lip. She had not wanted to injure him severely, merely to nick him and bring his level of arrogance down a peg or two. But either her aim had been slightly off, or he had moved at the last instant.

“I truly am sorry,” she offered in a small voice after a moment.

“I trust you are.” He gave a disgruntled sigh. “But I suppose the fault is as much mine as yours. I should have known better than to provoke an angry female with a gun.” To her amazement there was an edge of dark humor in his voice.

His next question surprised her just as much. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

“Well…my groom taught me. O’Malley instructed me on any number of skills-riding and shooting particularly.”