Page 54 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
Nothing more than a woman living in the woods with her mother, determined to make the world a better place by healing one person at a time. She might have been a pain in his arse, but he’d thought that he’d understood her.
Now, Conall wasn’t so sure. The more time he spent with her, the more of an enigma Eliza became.
She was becoming a puzzle to him. Something that he wanted to twist and turn and figure out all the ways in which she ticked, all the places in which she could fit.
Eliza bent, saying something to one of the men that caused him to smile. It was a pained expression, but the way the man gazed at her, it was as if she herself had hung the moon.
She is an angel to these people.
And she looked the part. Her blonde hair glinted as light filtered in through the opening in the tent. Her brown eyes were soft and gentle as she cared for her patients.
Just as he always did, Conall could not help but admire her beauty, the sheer perfection of her.
The familiar feeling beneath his kilt began to stir, and he stepped away. It would not serve him well to walk around with his cock pressing up from beneath his kilt.
“I need somethin’ to distract meself,” he said aloud, hoping that the act of speaking would serve to occupy his mind.
An idea struck him, something that he could do to pass the time. And so, he turned his back on Eliza, allowing her to continue about her work.
After all, he had his own work to do.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
“Imight fall asleep standin’ up if I daenae get off me feet soon,” Eliza groaned as she stepped into the room she was sharing with Conall.
The barmaid had been able to give them the same room they’d had the night before, and Eliza felt herself relax as she walked into the now familiar space.
Conall was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his hands behind his head.
“What did yer maither say to us sharin’ a room?” he asked, and Eliza couldn’t help but huff a laugh at the memory.
“Oh, she was mad as a banshee,” she recounted. “But I explained to her that ye were doin’ it for protection. Apparently, there were some brutes around who were snatchin’ women out of their houses.”
She gave him a pointed look as she walked toward the bed and sank onto it, groaning with relief as she was off her feet for the first time that day.
When she’d been in the medical tent tending to the poison victims, a couple had approached her. They had a daughter with an ailment that they wanted her to look at.
Apparently, word had spread quickly that there was a pair of healers in town. Because, one by one, people had approached her and Marissa. It seemed that now that the poison victims had been taken care of and looked like they would fully recover, people were no longer shy to occupy their time.
Eliza felt dirty. She was in the same clothes she had been in when they’d left the castle two days prior. And, she wished more than anything that she had her night gown with her, at the very least for something clean to sleep in.
“If she asks in the mornin’ though,” she continued. “Tell her ye slept on the floor.”
Conall smirked but said nothing. Eliza glanced at him, surprised by his silence. The moment her eyes landed on him, he pointed toward the corner of the room.
She followed the direction of his finger with her eyes, and immediately her gaze landed on a folded stack of fabric.
Cocking her head to the side, she looked at Conall once more.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Ye should look at it,” he grumbled, shooting her a pointed look.
Eliza groaned. She didn’t want to put her weight back on her aching feet. But she was also too curious to stay put.
She pushed herself off of the bed, slowly making her way to what Conall had indicated. Reaching for the piece of fabric at the top of the pile, she tugged on it.
Holding it up, a form began to take shape, and it took a moment for her mind to catch up with what she was seeing. It was a nightgown.
