Page 3 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
“Since ye insist on takin’ me against me will, ye can at least make yerself useful,” Cassandra turned on her heel and thrust one of the heavier satchels toward him.
Hunter arched a brow but took the bag without complaint, slinging it over his broad shoulder. Cassandra gathered her supplies with swift, practiced movements, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand rather than the infuriating man looming nearby.
She packed bundles of dried herbs, small vials of tinctures, and clean bandages into her satchel. Hunter stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her with a look of impatience.
Together, they made their way out of the healing room and toward the courtyard, their footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor.
Stepping outside, Cassandra squinted against the sunlight and immediately noticed the problem. Only one horse stood saddled and waiting—a large, dark beast with a proud stance.
She turned to Hunter with a scowl. “Where’s me mount?” she asked.
Hunter tightened the strap on the saddle before glancing at her. “Ye daenae have one,” he said simply. “Ye’ll ride with me.”
Cassandra let out an incredulous scoff, hands flying to her hips. “I’ll borrow one from the horse master, then—I’ll nae be ridin’ withye.”
Hunter shook his head. “Nay time for that, lass,” he said. “We ride together.” His tone left no room for argument, but Cassandra was not one to be ordered about so easily. Her eyes flashed with defiance as she took a step forward.
“I willnae cling to ye like some helpless maid,” she hissed. “I can ride well enough on me own.”
“Aye, I daenae doubt ye can, but I need ye close in case the need arises to ride fast," Hunter said. Then he mumbled, “I daenae trust that ye willnae escape.”
Cassandra gritted her teeth, knowing she was fighting a losing battle. The man was as immovable as a mountain. “Fine,” she bit out. “But if ye think I’ll be holdin’ on toye, ye’re mistaken.”
Hunter mounted the horse with ease before reaching down for her. “Suit yerself, lass,” he said. “But when the beast takes off, ye might change yer mind.”
Cassandra muttered a string of curses under her breath before placing her hand in his, allowing him to pull her up.
Settling behind him, she kept her hands firmly at her sides, determined not to touch him. The heat of his body radiated through his cloak, irritating her further. Hunter nudged the horse forward, and the great beast started into a steady trot. Cassandra braced herself, silently cursing that this man had walked into her life.
As they crested a hill down the road, the saddle shifted and Cassandra found herself sliding.
Cassandra huffed, shifting uncomfortably behind Hunter on the horse. “This is ridiculous,” she snapped. “I told ye I could ride on me own.” Her fingers twitched at her sides, refusing to grab onto him for balance.
Hunter kept his eyes on the road ahead. “Aye, I heard ye well enough,” he said. “But I’ve enemies, lass, and I willnae risk anyone takin’ a shot at ye while we ride.” His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it. “Ye might nae like it, but ye’ll do as I say.”
Cassandra scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, aye? And what makesyethe authority over me?” she challenged. “Ye barge into me healin’ rooms, demand me help, and now I’m supposed totrustyewith me safety?” She shook her head. “Ye’ve got another thing comin’, Laird McDougal.”
“Lass, ye’re sittin’ behind me on me horse already,” he pointed out. “Seems to me ye’ve got little choice but to trust me. Unless ye’d rather I tie ye to the saddle to keep ye still?”
Cassandra sucked in a sharp breath, her face heating. “Ye wouldnae dare,” she ground out.
Hunter turned his head slightly. “Try me, lass.”
Her hands clenched into fists, frustration warring with the undeniable pull between them. “I swear, if ye so much asthinkabout it, I’ll make ye regret it,” she warned. “I’ll slip nettle into yer boots, or worse—yer bed.”
“Fiery, lass,” he murmured. “Good. You'll need that mettle for what ye are about to see."
Cassandra growled under her breath, knowing she had just lost this battle—but she’d be damned if she lost the war.
Cassandra let out a frustrated sigh but finally relented. “Fine,” she muttered. “But if ye think ridin’ together means ye can take liberties, I’ll remind ye I ken a hundred ways to make a man suffer.”
“Aye, I daenae doubt it,” he said. “But ye’d do well to hold on, lass. I willnae have ye tumblin’ off and breakin’ yer neck before ye even set foot in me keep.”
Cassandra hesitated before gripping his belt lightly. “Tell me about the illness,” she said, eager to distract herself from the heat radiating off him. “What symptoms have ye seen so far?” She needed to prepare herself before they arrived.
Hunter’s expression darkened. “Fever, shakin’, terrible weakness,” he listed. “Some of them cannae keep water down, and others slip into a deep sleep they daenae wake from.” His voice was grim. “Me healer fell to it before he could find the cause.”
Cassandra frowned, her mind already turning over the possibilities. “How fast does it spread?” she asked. “Has anyone survived it yet?” The unknown sickness intrigued her, though the danger it posed was evident.
