Page 5 of Highlander's Captive Bride
Bellamy and the healer sat slightly apart, eating and drinking in silence. He could not help but cast her sideways glances, finding himself admiring her finely carved profile and the way she ate so delicately.
She finished the last bite of her cheese and brushed the crumbs away. “How much further do we have to go?” she asked suddenly, her eyes fixed ahead on the horses.
“Well, if we keep on like this, we’ll be back well in time for supper tomorrow if that’s what ye’re thinking.”
The withering look she shot him then made him almost choke on his bread with laughter. It was so easy to provoke her! And so amusing. In fact, he had a hard job remembering when anyone had made him so amused—at least, not since Elodie had fallen sick.
After a while, with the meal concluded and the pleasant smell of pipe tobacco floating in the air, Bellamy looked upwards. The sun was dipping below the horizon, streaking the sky with streaming banners of pink, violet, and orange.
“Time to bed down, lads,” he declared, getting up, yawning and stretching.
In answer to his command, the men moved to go about their last-minute chores. Some went to secure the horses, while another went to the burn to rinse out the cups before bringing them back and adding more wood to the fire to ensure it would burn throughout the night.
Bellamy gestured for a fellow to watch the healer while he joined some of the other men in briefly disappearing into the trees to answer nature’s call. Upon his return a few minutes later, bedrolls were already being unfurled and laid beside the fire, ready for sleep.
He was about to get his own bedroll and a blanket for the healer from the saddlebags on his horse when she suddenly rose to her feet and said, “I need to relieve meself.”
Bellamy looked down at the top of her head, which came up to the middle of his chest. Her hair shone like silk. His fingers suddenly itched to touch it, but he somehow managed to stop himself from acting on the impulse.
“Aye, all right,” he agreed, casting about for a convenient tree not too far away, where he could keep an eye on her. He pointed to a thick pine tree about twenty yards away. “There. But dinnae try anything. I’ll be watching ye the whole time.”
“Ach, I’m sure ye will,” she answered disdainfully before picking her way carefully over to the tree and vanishing behind it.
Bellamy kept his eyes on the flash of pale green her gown made against the brown trunk. Something made a thrashing noise in the branches above, and he briefly looked away from the tree, upwards, to locate the source of the sound. It was naught but a squirrel.
When he looked back, he glimpsed pale green flashing between the tree trunks, heading off fast, away from him.
“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, irritation rising as he took off after her.
There was no time to waste on such a pointless chase. He had to get home fast, for his daughter could already be dying, and this healer was his last chance to save her.
* * *
Daisy crouched behind the tree trunk as if to relieve herself. In reality, she was watching Bellamy Kane intently for any gap in his attention. When a pair of pigeons in the tree above him distracted him momentarily, she saw her chance.
Picking up her skirts, she dashed off into the forest, leaping over the underbrush and ducking to avoid low-hanging branches as she plunged deeper into the trees.
I have to get away!
But even over the sound of her own racing heartbeat thundering in her ears, she heard him crashing through the trees behind her, the sounds growing ever louder. Risking a quick glance over her shoulder to see just how close he was, she was horrified to see him almost upon her, and she let out a small scream, turning back and increasing her pace, panting wildly in panic as she forged ahead.
She shrieked as his hands suddenly grasped her by the waist, bringing them both crashing down to the leafy floor. Immediately, she swiveled on her behind to face him, lashing at him with her hands and feet. But in a flash, he had her, covering her thrashing body with his large one.
Daisy sobbed in frustration as he easily pinned down her arms by the wrists.
“Ye bastard!” she hissed, hating him with every fiber of her being as she vainly tried to dislodge him. She might as well have been trying to shake off a mountain for all the good it did her.
“Wheesht, lass, ’tis nae the sort of language ye expect from a laird’s daughter!” he said, panting. “Ye’re just wasting time,” he added.
She gave up the struggle and simply tried to recover her breath, but his weight was crushing.
“Get off me, ye great dummart,” she gasped. “I cannae breathe with ye on top of me!”
In answer, he leaned up on his elbows, taking the weight of his body off her, staring down at her while she took in deep breaths.
They lay there for a few minutes, just staring at each other. Daisy grudgingly admitted to herself for the first time how extraordinarily attractive he was. The hard, masculine angles of his face could have been chiseled by a master craftsman but for the silvery battle scars highlighting his left cheek and the bridge of his nose.
Black stubble covered his jaw, and his lips were wide and firm, with white, even teeth showing between them. When she looked into his large gray eyes, she realized they were fixed on her mouth, and she shut it immediately, deliberately pursing it into a thin line.
