Page 28 of A Highland Healer Captured
His lips parted, but no sound came.
Skylar pressed on, unstoppable. “He loves ye, Zander. Loves ye so fiercely it shines out of him even when his chest rattles with every breath. But ye —” her voice broke, anger and pity twisting together.
“Ye’re too blind, too proud, to see that he doesnae need ye to guard him. He needs ye tobewith him.”
Silence fell.
His nostrils flared, his breath heavy, but he didn’t speak. His eyes burned into hers, the storm in them wild, unyielding. Skylar felt her pulse hammer, her fists clenching, her body shaking with the force of words she had held too long.
The tension so thick it threatened to choke the corridor.
Skylar’s heart thundered in her ears, her blood hot as fire. She had said it, every sharp truth she’d been saving up since they first met. And she would say more, damn the consequences.
“Ye are a laird, aye,” she said, her voice quieter now, but fiercer for it. “But when it comes to yer son, ye are failing him. And nay title, nay keep, nay wall of men will change that.”
The words hung between them, raw and dangerous.
Zander stared at her, his mouth a hard line, his hands flexing at his sides as if fighting some battle she couldn’t see. For a moment, she almost thought he might lash out, might shout her down the way he had silenced his council.
But he didn’t. He stood there, silent, his chest rising and falling like a man standing on the edge of a cliff.
Skylar’s breath came ragged, her own body taut with defiance. She knew she had gone too far. She knew it, and yet she would not take a word back.
Not one.
She braced for his fury. Another barked command, another threat to silence her. Instead, Zander only stared, his chest heaving, his fists flexing at his sides.
Her heart thudded painfully.
Why didnae he say something?
Why didnae he fight back?
“Say somethin’ ye brute! Sweet hells! Say anythin’ —”
He moved in a flash.
One moment he stood across from her, iron still in every line of his body, and the next his hand was cupping her jaw, tilting her face upward. His mouth crushed hers before she could take another breath.
The world went white-hot.
He kissed her like he meant to claim the air from her lungs. His beard scratched her skin raw, his hand at her back dragging her tight against him until she could barely think past the heat.
She gasped, the sound swallowed into his mouth, and her fingers betrayed her, clutching at the broad planes of his chest.
She knew she should push him away. She should slap him, curse him, remind him that he was her enemy. But her body betrayed her. Her lips parted, and when his tongue brushed hers, she whimpered so soft, so needy.
He deepened the kiss, his grip tightening as if he meant to fuse her body to his. The heat of him consumed her, the storm of him left no space for thought. Every movement of his mouth was fire, every press of his body was iron, and Skylar melted against him, lost.
Her hands slid upward, tangling in his hair, and he groaned into her mouth, the sound vibrating through her bones as he kissed her harder. There was nothing gentle in it. No caution. Just raw hunger and the collision of two wills that should have destroyed each other but instead sparked like flint and steel.
She kissed him back with the same wild fury she had argued with moments before. The taste of him filled her, smoke and salt and the ache of a man who had carried too much.
Time stood still. There was only heat, only lips, and only the pounding of her pulse in her ears.
When he tore himself away at last, Skylar nearly stumbled, dizzy from the force of it. Her lips were swollen, her breath ragged, her body trembling with desire she could not deny.
Zander stood over her, his own breath uneven, his eyes dark and wild. For a heartbeat, she thought he might kiss her again.
