Page 6 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
He’s likely been in a fight recently. Beast, indeed.
The thought stirred fear deep in her belly, but she did not give in to it.
“I daenae care who ye are,” she said, proud that none of her doubt had leached into her voice. “I still cannae help ye.”
“It wouldnae be for us, but for the bairns,” the Laird explained. “We’ve gone to every other healer we could, and they all said they wouldnae help us. Ye’re their last shot, lass. Without ye, the wee ones will die.”
His gaze held hers. His expression was hard, entirely unreadable. Everything in her wanted to deny him again – wanted to march him straight to the door and kick him out of her cabin onto his arse.
But images of the sick bairns she’d helped in the past filled her mind’s eye, softening her heart. They’d have died if she had not helped them, too. Slowly, she felt herself begin to soften.
Do I have it in me to punish wee ones because their Laird is a beast?
The answer that rang out within her was a loud and resounding ‘nay’.
Before she could open her mouth to say anything, though, the Laird let out an impatient growl. It was the only warning he gave before bringing his hulking body closer to hers.
She retreated until her back pressed into the wooden wall and she could go no further. But he matched her, step for step. Eliza shrank back further, pressing as hard as she could into the wood at her back and glared up at the man before her.
They were close. Nearly chest to chest. She could feel the oppressive heat of his body rolling off of him.
“Ye’re helpin’ us,” he said, his voice so low it seemed to rumble through her.
Small bumps of fear skittered across Eliza’s flesh, and she turned her gaze upward, looking into the Beast of the MacKinnons' face.
Nothing had changed about him, not in any way she could identify. But his brown eyes had darkened to the point of appearing black. His posture had become rigid. The way his eyes roamed over her, filled with an ice-cold rage that dared her to try to defy him, instilled a fear in her that cut down to her very bones.
I will nae be afraid in me own home.
Eliza snarled, pushing against his massive arms with all her might. She threw her body weight back and forth, wriggling between his arms, but not once did his grip lessen.
A cry of frustration tore itself from her throat as panic started bubbling inside her. She thrashed again, but his grasp on her was so strong that she might as well have been fighting against still.
“Ye’re helpin’ us,” he repeated, “the choice isnae up to ye.”
Laird MacKinnon didn’t say anything else as he hoisted her up, easy as if she was the weight of a feather and tossed her over his shoulder. Eliza fought like mad, yelling and screaming and bringing her fists down on his back. But the Beast of the MacKinnons didn’t stop. He just strode forward, carrying Eliza out of her home and away from the only safety she had ever truly known.
CHAPTERFOUR
“Put me down!”
Small hands beat at his back as Conall walked through the small cottage and out the door. The woman fought like a wildcat as he made his way across the porch and down the stairs, but he paid her no mind.
She pounded against his shoulder blades, hollering the whole way until he stopped before his and Eliot’s horses. He turned to glance at his man-at-arms, who stood a few paces back.
“Will ye be yellin’ at me too?” Conall asked gruffly, knowing that his plan would be the same no matter his friend’s answer.
“Nay,” Eliot answered with a shake of his head. “I think she’s doin’ enough fightin’ for the both of us.”
Conall let out a small sigh of relief, glad that at the very least he wouldn’t have to argue with Eliot while dealing with the healer.
He heaved her off his shoulder, plopping her down in front of him. Immediately she made a move like she was going to sprint away from him, but he grabbed hold of her arms and held her firmly in place.
“Now listen, lass,” he growled.
“I’m nae a lass!” she protested, still throwing her weight back and forth trying to break Conall’s grip.
“I daenae care!” he bellowed, almost losing his temper entirely.
