Page 72 of A Highland Healer Captured
The reel ended in a roar. Skylar stood breathless, hair fallen, palms tingling. Zander’s hand slid away, leaving the ghost of heat on her back.
“Ye’re flushed,” he said, as if he were taking a pulse with his eyes.
“Ye’ve eyes,” she shot back, then softer, “I’ve… I should go.”
His jaw shifted. “Aye. Come,” he said, voice low and brokering no room for argument.
She left the circle and the light before she could make a spectacle of herself, ducked into the corridor that led toward the surgery,toward safety. She made it halfway to sense before stopping with both palms against cool stone.
Leave. The gate. Ariella.
The words had been stones in her pocket all day, dragging her gait. Ariella’s name like a prayer she hadn’t finished. Grayson’s soft breath like a tether she didn’t know how to cut.
She thought of the stillroom key that wasn’t yet in her hand. She thought of the dirk at her side. She thought of his mouth when he laughed, which she should not have thought about at all.
But her feet went the wrong way. Or perhaps it was the right one, back to the keep, back to the laird’s chambers.
“Skylar,” he growled, each syllable a low rumble that made her heart seize. Something raw and lava-hot stirred inside her, drawing her forward on unsteady legs.
“I should go —” she began, but the words died in her throat, thin and false.
“Stay,” he commanded.
She closed the distance as if pulled by an irresistible force. Zander lifted a hand, not to bind, but to cradle her jaw. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, rough but careful, and the restraint in the gesture undid her more than force ever could.
Their lips met with a calculated ferocity, firelight igniting the seam between them.
“I —,” she gasped, voice trembling. “I didnae think —”
“Think later,” he murmured, silencing her with a scorching press of lips.
Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, even as her mind shrieked warnings.This is madness. He’s nae yer husband. Ye’re unwed! Nae right!But her body didn’t care for vows she’d never make, only for the fierce wanting that had been gnawing at her.
“Zander…” she broke the kiss, panting, her forehead pressed to his. “This isnae… proper. We— we shouldnae…
His jaw flexed, his breath ragged. “Aye,” he agreed hoarsely. “We shouldnae.”
But neither of them moved. The weight of the words fell useless against the pull between them.
Skylar closed her eyes. She thought of Ariella, of her duty, of how fleeting every borrowed hour here was. She thought of Grayson’s laugh, of Zander’s hand steady on his son’s shoulder, of the man’s lips on hers now. And she knew. She didn’t want restraint. She didn’t want propriety. Not tonight.
When she opened her eyes again, she found his searching hers with a tortured hunger. Her voice came out raw, certain despite the tremor. “Then have me. Just once, Zander. I ken it’s wrong, I ken it, but I want it— I want ye.”
He stilled, as if the world itself had frozen. His fingers tightened on her jaw, and she saw the battle in him. It was the same as hers. Duty against desire.
“Say it again,” he rasped.
A fierce heat hammered through her like steel on an anvil; she responded without hesitation, her body roaring to life after too-long dormancy.
“I want— nay. Even if it’s sin. Ineedye.”
The last of his control seemingly snapped. His mouth claimed her, desperate. He kissed her fiercely.
She answered with her own fire, surprising herself with the intensity of her need.
His hands mapped her, memorizing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hip, the soft dip at the small of her back.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, drawing him closer. He groaned against her lips, the sound vibrating straight into her chest. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The room shrank toragged breaths and urgent hands, the stifled cry she let slip when his mouth trailed from her jaw to the hollow of her throat.
