Page 10 of A Highland Healer Captured
Skylar’s pulse skittered. She shoved at his chest again, though her hands were too weak against his strength. “Get. Off.”
“Nae until ye swear ye’ll nae try to run again.”
“I’ll swear nay such thing!”
Zander chuckled low, the sound vibrating through her whole body where it pressed against his. “That’s what I thought.”
The tension between them thrummed hotter than the fire. For one dangerous heartbeat, she feared he might lean closer. That his mouth might claim hers, fierce and demanding. The thought sent a shiver racing down her spine, half terror, half…
He sighed, letting his shoulder droop slightly, then pushed himself upright, hauling her up with him as if she weighed no more than a sack of wool. She staggered and fell into him, flustered.
He chuckled again, the sound sent heat shooting through her veins and it was maddening.
Skylar’s cheeks burned hotter than the fire as Zander steadied her on her feet. He was still grinning, the brute, as if tackling a woman into the mud and pinning her beneath his hulking weight was something to jest about.
“Ye’ve two choices now, lass,” he said, still holding her wrist tight. His voice carried over the crackle of fire and the soft shuffle of his men watching from the shadows. “I can throw ye over me shoulder like a sack of grain, or I can trust ye to walk back with me like a lady. Which will it be?”
Her mouth dropped open. “A lady? After ye’ve just flattened me into the ground?”
Zander’s smile widened, infuriatingly calm. “Aye. Ye looked well enough sprawled there, but the choice is yers.”
Skylar’s breath came in sharp bursts, mortification warring with fury. She wrenched her arm, but his grip held. “I’ll walk, thank ye kindly. I’ll nae give ye the pleasure of tossing me about like a doll.”
“As ye like.” He released her at last, and she stormed ahead, stomping into the ruined hall with mud squelching under her boots. She didn’t care that her cloak flapped wildly or that her hair was plastered to her face. Better fury than the heat still lingering on her skin from his body pressed to hers.
Behind her came laughter, low and rolling. His men had watched because of course they had. They’d seen her thrash, heard her curses, and now their grins gleamed in the firelight.
Their unrecognizable burr wrapped around her like mocking music, full of jests she couldn’t untangle. She caught only a word here and there, “wild,” “mad,” “brave.”
She spun to glare at them, cheeks blazing hotter. “What are ye half-wits laughing at?”
One of the riders bellowed then muttered something in his dialect, and the others roared. Skylar’s stomach twisted. Not understanding their words was worse than any insult she could have heard.
Before she could demand translation, Zander’s hand caught her arm. He hauled her back against his chest with a tug so firm she nearly stumbled.
“Easy, lass,” he murmured, so close she could feel his beard scratch her temple. “They’re laughing because they’ve never seen anyone wriggle so hard against me and live to tell of it.”
Her face went scarlet. “Ye’re a brute!”
“Aye,” he said cheerfully, letting her go again. “But an honest one.”
The men’s laughter rippled louder, echoing off the ruined stone. Skylar wished the earth would swallow her whole. She wanted nothing more than to claw his smug face, but instead she drew herself up, chin high, pride wrapped around her like armor.
She stalked toward a dark corner of the ruin, muttering, “I’ll find me own bit of privacy, thank ye very much.”
But before she could take two full steps away, Zander’s arm snaked around her waist again, pulling her back flush against him. She was starting to get quite tired of feeling his chest pressed against her back… or was she?
He bent low enough that his words brushed warm against her ear. “Privacy? In camp with the best warriors the Hebrides have to offer? Ye’re bold, to be sure, but naethatclever.”
Skylar shoved at him, but it was like shoving a stone wall. “I could outwit ye if I had half a chance.”
His chuckle rumbled through her bones. “Ye’ve had afullchance,” he said and pointed toward Daisy. “And even if Igaveye another, I’d still wager against ye.”
The men hooted again, tossing more of their incomprehensible jests across the fire. One mimed wriggling like a rabbit caught in a snare, and the others nearly fell over with laughter. Skylar’s ears burned, but she snapped back anyway. “Och, laugh all ye like, ye pack of overgrown sheep. I’ll see the lot of ye sorry when I slip out from under yer noses.”
Zander turned her fully, gripping both her shoulders, his grey eyes pinning her where she stood. “Is that a vow, Skylar Dunlop?”
Her heart lurched, but she refused to falter. “Aye. I’ll escape ye, Laird Strathcairn. Mark me well. I’ll have the last word yet.”
