“Aye, and as ye see, she has spirit.”

“And she is scared to death, way up there on top of a giant,” Ella said, chastising him with a frown. Tucking the blanket tighter around her, she walked to him, dragging the length behind her like a cumbersome train. “Bend,” she demanded and reached high to disentangle the kitten from Cain’s head, her arms shaped with slender muscles. “Here sweet thing,” she whispered. “Let me take you away from the big bad Sinclair.”

Cain bent his knees so she could pull the cat from him, its paws and claws extended wide. “Ye know, the kitten is also a Sinclair,” he said, watching her bring the ball of black and white fluff to her face, touching her nose to the cat’s little white one.

The heavy blanket around Ella loosened, and she gasped as it fell to the floor. Stepping back, Ella tripped over the wool mass tangled around her feet. Cain’s hands shot out, grabbing her arms to keep her from falling backward. The kitten yowled and jumped from her onto the bed.

The feel of him steadying her yanked back a long-ago memory. She had been young and smiling at the festival when he’d bumped into her, making her drop her bouquet of Scottish thistle.

“Thank you,” she said and frowned as if she wished she could pull it back, yanking out of his grasp.

“Ye are all wet.” Water drops sat along her collarbone, making him very thirsty. Och. What would the lass taste like?

She clutched her arms over her breasts and squatted to grab up the blanket to hold before her. “You startled me when you knocked.”

“And…” He looked from her to the tub and back. Water was pooled across the floor. “Ye fell in the tub?”

“No, well…yes. Somewhat. Not all the way.”

He took a quick mental inventory of the room. It was small, too small for his bulk, but it suited Ella. “Ye need a robe and another bathing sheet, a rug for the floor, and some rags for the water.”

She picked the kitten from the bed to hold before her, but the wee beast wiggled until Ella let her jump down to prowl about. “Do not forget a sgian dubh or mattucashlass,” Ella said and clutched the blanket up to the base of her throat.

Even half drowned, she was bonny and brave. Although she had little defense in being alone and half dressed with him in a small room, she was not cowering or weeping in a corner. Nay, the lass was asking for weapons. The side of his mouth tipped upward. “I will keep your request in mind.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yet you ignore my other request.”

His smile faded. He would no more kill her than he would kill the kitten. “I am not going to execute ye, Ella Sutherland.”

“Your brother—”

“And I will not let Bàs execute ye, either.”