Liz turned away from the river and sat on a fallen log. “How do you round the flame into a ball?”

Simon took a seat beside her and listened.

Fin glanced at his audience with a smile, his battered ego pleased that she looked to him for guidance. “First you need to be able to call the flame and hold it above your palm.”

“How do you do that?”

Fin reached for Simon’s hand and turned it palm up. Out of nowhere, a small round ball of fire emerged from Fin’s fingertips. There it hovered less than an inch from his skin. “Think of it as you would a ball of string. As it reaches toward your skin bat it away.” He handed the flame over to Simon, ready to intervene if the lad wasn’t able to control the orb.

He heard Liz suck in a deep breath when the flame lowered onto her son’s palm. She didn’t say a word when the flame lowered to an uncomfortable level. Simon extended his fingers and the fire bounced in the air.

“Awesome!” He bounced it again. Fin stood back.

Pride filled him as he watched Simon’s newfound power.

“Now, toss it to the river.”

When the heat sizzled in the water, Simon pivoted toward him grinning ear to ear. “Cool. You gotta try it, Mom. It’s so easy.”

Elizabeth squared her shoulders and held out her hand. Fin clasped his palm to the back of her hand. Although her hand felt cold and rigid in his, warmth spread throughout his arm. “Relax,” he told her, catching her gaze. The spark in her blue eyes hit him right below his belt. He inched his fingertips around to her pulse and noted the rapid tat of her heartbeat. “You need to settle.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

Her eyes narrowed in challenge but instead of her usual rebuttal, she closed her eyes and breathed deep. Her chest elevated and the creamy white of her br**sts pushed up through the swooping neckline of her gown. For a brief moment, he wondered if the ni**les on her br**sts were a rosy pink bud or a darkened tan patch. His groin tightened and his heart rate started to climb.

“You need to settle,” Liz repeated his words bringing his attention to her eyes that were now open and watching his.

Turning away from her feminine curves, Fin opened his hand to another ball of fire. He lowered the fire to her palm as he had Simon’s, all the while holding her hand safely in his. As the ball inched closer she attempted to bat it away, but the flame continued to fall. His hand reached forward controlling the ball once again.

“Try again.”

She sighed and stared at the fire, determined.

This time she managed to move the ball, but as it came down a second time, it fell onto her palm.

Her fingers automatically curled around it. She let out a screech, and dropped it. Fin shifted to retrieve the ball just as her gown caught fire.

She froze and Simon yelled.

Fin dropped to his knees batting at the flames.

“Myra!”

“Shit.”

Myra spun toward the river; her hands hovered in the air. A rush of wind fell upon them, along with it a waterfall of moisture. Fin looked up to see Liz’s hair streaming down her face. The flames were out, and she stood trembling. From the cold or fear of the dead flames, he couldn’t tell.

“Are you okay, lass?”

Liz shook herself. Her lower lip quivered.

“Again,” she whispered. ****

After lunch, Liz found a secluded spot next to the river out of view of the others. They practiced with the ball of flames continuously until she controlled it long enough to bounce it three times.

However, the task had cost her. She glanced over her shoulder making sure no one watched before kneeling to the water’s edge. Forcing her hand into the cold stream, her eyes rolled back, and her back teeth ground together. She lifted her hand and stared at the blistering skin.

It hurt like hell. The burn happened when the flames lapped up her gown. Her reaction scared her.

She’d frozen, completely unable to help herself, and that pissed her off. She cursed herself, knowing how freezing up in the face of danger could cost any of them their lives. She wasn’t sure why she’d done it.

At the time, all she could see was her body burning and her son watching.

“What are you doing?” Fin’s voice came from behind her.

She stood quickly, pivoted and hid her hand behind her back. “Washing, I was washing up.”

“Why are you holding your hand behind your back?”

She let it fall to her side, but hid the damage from his eyes.

It didn’t work. He was beside her in two steps, her hand in his palm and under his scrutiny. “When did we do this?”

“I’m fine, Finlay. No big deal.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were scorched? We should have stopped earlier.” He tugged her back to the water, immersing her hand as she’d done. “Leave it there.”

My pleasure. The relief of the cold water brought a sigh from her lips.

Fin clasped the hem of her gown and proceeded to tear at the material.

“What are you doing?”

“Sit back,” he commanded.

She watched as he tore a strip of material free, dunked it in the water, and then reached for her hand. Liz sat back and let him tend to the burn. His tight jaw held back words she knew he wanted to say but didn’t. He was angry, that she sensed. But at what?

“We knew that playing with fire could result in one of us getting burned.”

“I’d rather it had been me than you.”

What could she say to that? She didn’t know so she opted for silence.

He finished his task of bandaging her palm and then sat holding her hand. “How does that feel?”

“Better, thank you.” Instead of letting go, he helped her to her feet. They stood beside each other, neither speaking. Her complete awareness of him trickled down to her toes. She sucked in her lower lip and did her best not to stare at him. His genuine concern for her well-being thrust them to a different plane. When they sparred, it proved easy to stay away from him. But this, this quiet response chiseled away at the wall she’d built up from the first time they’d set eyes on each other.

He held her hand and stared into her eyes. Liz swayed closer.

Simon called them from the cottage. “We should start back.”

Fin nodded and walked her to their horses. He refused to let her do anything other than watch as he assisted Todd and Simon with the saddles.

“Are you okay?” Myra asked gesturing toward her hand.

“It’s just a small burn.”