Page 25 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
“I daenae have a headache,” he said.
He needed to get her out of here. The longer Feya stood in front of him, the more he thought about shoving all these papers aside and laying her down on this desk.
“For tonight then,” she said, and she smiled at him gently, clearly unaffected by Archer’s stormy mood.
“Take it away, lass,” he ordered.
He dropped into a chair and grabbed for his pen, eager to busy himself with something. He had correspondence to answer, and he shuffled through his letters, waiting for Feya to leave. But even as he kept his eyes locked on the papers in front of him, he felt her walk forward.
She set the murky drink in front of him, the condensation on the mug getting wet droplets on his paper.
“Feya,” he chastised, standing up as he looked at her, but she stared back with fire in her eyes.
“Ye have brought me here to heal ye,” she cried, and Archer heard the mix of anger and tears in her voice. “How can I do thatif ye avoid me? I cannae help someone who doesnae want to be healed.”
He stood stunned, constantly surprised by how bold this woman was, how easily she stood defiantly in front of him, speaking her mind.
“I amnae avoiding ye,” he told her, but Feya only squeezed her mouth together in anger, likely holding back something even more biting. Even Feya knew there were limits to what she could say to a Laird.
She turned on her heel and left, leaving Archer with the sweet-smelling drink still in front of him. Did Feya really think he was avoiding her? Their time in the healing chamber had been two days ago, but they had shared meals together since then, Ayla chattering away to fill the silence. And Feya had delivered different remedies, sometimes sending them with his man into his bedchamber, other times bringing them here to his study.
Of course, they hadn’t spoken of their kiss. And Archer certainly hadn’t allowed them to be alone together. He thought they both understood that something like that could never happen again. Besides, the woman should know he was busy with clan business. If he didn’t catch Lennox and any treasonous acts, it could mean trouble for him and his clan.
“We had a deal,” Feya said, turning back as she got to the doorway. “I heal ye and ye bring me home. If ye arenae willing to hold up your side of this bargain, then ye should send me home.”
There was anger in her eyes, but he saw something else there as she glared at him. He couldn’t mistake the unspoken need he saw in her expression, a need that Archer was desperate to satisfy. He had to suppress the urge to storm across the room, to press her against that doorframe and push his mouth against hers.
Instead, to suppress the desire, he lifted the glass in front of him, making sure she saw. He drank the concoction down in two huge gulps. Then he slammed the drink down like a young soldier who had just finished his first drink. She held her scowl for a moment, but then Feya smirked at him, and Archer knew things were right between them again.
She walked away, letting her fingers linger on the doorframe, the last thing to disappear.
12
“Feya, look out!”
Feya looked down at her hands, where the knife she held hovered over her finger instead of the ginger root she had been slicing. She blinked and put the knife down, pulling herself back from thoughts that had her a hundred miles away.
“Thanks.” She gave Ayla a distracted nod.
“Thinking about your family?” Ayla asked.
Images of her sisters and brothers floated into her mind, and with them came an overwhelming wave of guilt. She should be with them right now. She had no idea if they were alive or dead. But the real guilt came from the knowledge that she hadn’t been thinking about them at all.
No. She had been thinking about Archer. His mouth pressing insistently against hers. The press of his hand on the small of herback, pulling her hips against his. His eyes looking down at her with desire.
“Yes,” Feya lied, but the word felt hard and heavy in her throat.
“I’m sure they’re just fine without you,” Ayla said, and Feya smiled with her lips pressed tightly together. She nodded, knowing that Ayla was only trying to be helpful. But Ayla didn’t know the real story. She had no idea that Feya had fled in danger, that she had left her family in the midst of a tragedy.
“Are ye alright?”
The question brought tears to Feya’s eyes, and she swallowed hard to keep them away. Her mind was spinning with competing desires, one part pulling her toward her family, the other keeping her right here in the castle.With him.
“Fine,” Feya whispered as she focused on the job in front of her. “If you let this seep in some tea, it can help with nausea and even hunger. I tell the farmers to keep it on hand for difficult winters when the food must be rationed.”
She glanced at Ayla, who gave her a strange expression. She was usually such an attentive student, but Feya could see she wasn’t listening. Instead, she seemed more interested in learning about Feya. Her eyes roamed Feya’s face, searching for truth behind her mask.
“Come on,” Ayla said. She gave Feya’s sleeve a playful pull. “Ye look like ye could use some air.”
