Page 8 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
When the castle finally came into view, the windows flickering with firelight against the now entirely darkened sky, he exhaled a sigh of relief.
Never in his life had Conall been this affected by the presence of lass. Not one that he couldn’t immediately sneak away and ravish, and definitely not one that he had just stolen out of her own home.
He exhaled a deep, steadying breath, focusing all his considerable will on softening the stiffness beneath his kilt. All the while, there was only one thought filling Conall’s mind.
Maybe the lass had actually been sent by the devil, himself, it’s the only thin’ that would explain this torture.
CHAPTERFIVE
Eliza stared at the castle that loomed over them, her mouth agape despite herself. She’d heard plenty about the wealth of the MacKinnon clan, but she never imagined the castle would look quite like this.
Massive stone turrets jutted into the night sky, blotting out the shimmering stars behind them. Warm lights filled many of the windows, and dark forms darted to and fro inside as the servants went about their evening tasks.
Since she was just a lass, Eliza had only known the cabin in the woods. Her profession often had her venturing outside the boundary of the forest, but only ever to the small villages that surrounded her. The most opulent thing she had ever seen had been the manor house of a councilman while she tended to his sick wife.
So the castle before her defied all comprehension.
The Laird shifted behind her, and once again, she felt his hardness poking into the back of her. It stilled her spinning thoughts, bringing them back to the present as she straightened her spine. Heat rose quickly into her cheeks as that stiffness pressed into her even more.
Eliza fought to ignore it.
How can ye ignore the size of it?
The thought flickered through her mind, and she immediately snuffed it out. She didn’t have time to let her mind wander in that direction, not if she wanted to tend to the bairns and then demand that he return her to her home.
Marissa is probably beside herself with worry.
The thought flickered into her mind, bringing with it images of the older woman returning to the cottage and finding Eliza gone. Her chest grew tight and she swallowed hard.
Breathe, lass. Ye cannot lose yerself. Ye got work to do.
Thankfully, at that moment, they arrived at the castle gates, distracting her. Guards upon the parapet called out to them, demanding that they identify themselves.
“It’s yer Laird, ye wallops!” Eliot yelled, and at the sound of his voice, there was a flurry of activity.
A loud creaking filled the air as the gate before them began to ascend. When it was high enough, the horse trotted forward into the courtyard surrounding the castle.
Eliza tried not to let her mouth drop open again as she got her first unobstructed view of the massive building. All around them, guards shouted to one another, calling out that their Laird had returned.
The Laird steered the horse to the massive door at the front of the castle, tugging on the reins just as the door was pulled open. Light spilled out of it, casting a warm glow onto the ground before them.
A steward hustled up to them, reaching out to take hold of the horse’s reins. He held the beast steady, patiently waiting for Eliza and the Laird to dismount.
“Are ye goin’ to fight me off again?”
The unexpected words caught Eliza off guard, and she gave a small gasp of surprise. She felt the rumble of his deep voice where her back was pressed to his chest, and his breath stirred the hair beside her ear. Goosebumps flickered over Eliza’s skin, and she had to fight off the urge to lean into him.
Get yerself together, woman.
Eliza admonished herself, trying to push every last one of the unholy thoughts out of her mind.
“Nay,” she answered with a quick shake of her head, happy that the small movement also served to clear it a bit.
Eliza didn’t feel like explaining that even if she wanted to fight him off, she didn’t have the energy. Not after spending the entire ride to MacKinnon Castle trying to keep her body as far away from his as possible.
Even if ye had been intrigued by the stiffness below his kilt.
Shame filled her as the words flickered in her mind. She was not a woman of lose morals. It was only curiosity over something she had never experienced before, she assured herself.
