She was right, he needed to hurry and be done with it, since he felt his loins begin to stir. Something he had never expected.

He ran his hand over several bruises and winced when he saw the numerous scratches. “I need to clean these scratches. Some are quite red and swollen.”

“Hurry,” she said again and squeezed her eyes closed tighter.

“There’s also a large bruise on your back and some smaller ones in various places. And a sizeable scratch on your thigh. But I don’t see anything embedded anywhere. I’ll hurry and see to these, then get the blanket around you.”

“I would be most grateful,” she said, trying desperately to keep control, not cry, not rail against the indignity of her situation.

He isn’t attracted to you. He has no desire to poke you. He does not look upon you with any intimate interest. You hold no appeal to him, not even naked.

She continued her silent chant to help her get through this humiliating ordeal. And what disturbed her even more was that he proved what she had thought. No man would be interested in a blind woman.

All her hopes and dreams of having a loving husband and family of her own came crashing down around her.

Tarass went down on his haunches, wet cloth in hand, after having cut another piece from the blanket and soaking and rinsing it in the bucket, to tend the scratch on her thigh.

He could be mannerly when he wanted to be, though that wasn’t often, but damned if her thatch of red hair between her legs didn’t beckon his eyes and entice. Or that her slim thighs didn’t invite him to spread them apart and—that did it. He stood and grabbed the blanket, Thaw giving him an evil look and a low growl as if he knew what he’d been thinking.

With deft hands, he quickly wrapped the blanket around her. “I can see to the rest with you covered up.”

With such a sudden change of mind, she wondered if he found her so unappealing that he could no longer look upon her. She should be grateful, since it brought the humiliating ordeal to a rapid end. She took hold of the two ends, he shoved in her hands, and closed the blanket tight around her, shielding herself.

Tarass silently cursed himself. Snow had been a thorn in his side from the day he had met her. He wondered if she remembered that day so long ago, when young, they had met for the first time. It had stuck in his memory. She had stuck in his memory.

He shook his head. That was a long time ago. He wasn’t a young, carefree lad anymore. He was a fierce warrior who had returned home to claim his birthright and make all those responsible pay for what had happened to his mother and father.