Page 73 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

Dwyn screamed as she fell, screamed again as she crashed onto Brodie and grunted as they both crashed to the forest floor. She was immediately kicking and scrambling to get away from the man, but he caught her knee in a bruising grip and crawled onto her legs, keeping her from kicking any more. It didn’t stop her punching out at him, but Brodie did by grabbing her hands and forcing them to her sides.

Dwyn groaned in pain when his fingers and thumbs pinched into her wrist bones, and then he forced them to the ground and rested the weight of his upper body on her wrists as he dragged himself up on top of her.

“Thought ye’d got away, did no’ ye?” Brodie growled once his body covered hers from the waist down. “But I swear I’ll kill ye if it’s the last thing I do.”

He released one of her hands then to grab her throat instead, and Dwyn struck out at him with her free hand as he began to choke her. She went for his eye, her three longer fingers extended and squished together. Grim satisfaction ran through her briefly as she hit her target.

Brodie roared in pain and fury, and then released her other hand to punch her in the face, but the hand at her throat remained, continuing to choke off her air. Dwyn was flailing at him now a little wildly. A buzzing had started in her ears, her body was beginning to tingle and it felt like her tongue was swelling in her mouth, though she knew it couldn’t be. Even so, she was starting to fear she would not escape him this time and he really would kill her. Dwyn had barely had that panicked thought when he was suddenly gone.

Gasping for air, and coughing violently, Dwyn pressed one hand to her throat and tried to drag herself away, pulling with her other arm and digging her feet into the dirt to push with her legs. The sounds of curses and grunts and the thuds of fists hitting flesh followed her and she glanced warily back to see one large, dark shape rolling across the forest floor behind her. Even as Dwyn watched, however, the shape shifted and rose slightly and a snapping sound filled the air. It wasn’t very loud, but seemed to be in the silence that followed, and then the shape shifted again, part of it dropping to the forest floor and the other disengaging itself as the man stood.

“Dwyn?”

She’d turned to start crawling again, but paused and turned back at the sound of Geordie’s voice and then he was kneeling beside her, raising her shoulders to hold her against his chest.

“Are ye all right, lass?” he asked anxiously, his hands moving over her as if checking for broken bones or wounds.

“Aye,” she got out in a shaky rasp.

“Oh, thank God.” Geordie scooped her into his arms and held her close, his head resting against hers. “I came back and yer da said ye’d slipped away to find a handy bush. I was going to wait patiently, but then I heard ye cry out. God,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her head. “I think me heart stopped.”

Dwyn slid her arms around his chest, holding him as he shuddered against her.

“I love ye, Dwyn,” he said solemnly. “I truly do, and I do no’ ken what I’d do if I lost ye.”

“I love ye too, Geordie,” she whispered.

He found her face with his hands, and tried to kiss her, but stopped at once when she winced in pain as his mouth covered her split lip.

“I’m sorry, love,” Geordie said at once, and then gathered her in his arms, and pushed to his feet, murmuring, “I’d best get ye back to the fire.”

Dwyn glanced over his shoulder at the dark shapes on the forest floor. In truth, she couldn’t tell which shape was Brodie and which were just bushes.

“Is he dead?” she asked.

“Aye, I broke his neck,” Geordie said, his voice grim. “He’ll no’ be bothering us again.”

Dwyn merely nodded, and rested her head against his chest with a little sigh. She believed him, but didn’t really believe him if that made any sense. She’d been so afraid and worried about Brodie for so long it would take a while for her to accept she had nothing more to worry about.

“Ye found her!”

Dwyn blinked her eyes open and glanced around at that relieved cry from Aileen, surprised to see that they were already back at the small makeshift camp where the women had waited. She hadn’t been that far away, after all. The woods here were just so thick she hadn’t been able to see the fire for the trees.

While the women had all been sleeping when she’d slipped away several moments ago, they were all up now. Many of them were busy tending to the wounded making their way to the camp, but Aileen and Una were rushing toward them as Geordie carried her toward the fire.

“Aye,” Geordie grunted in response to her sisters as they rushed to his side. When Aulay and Alick appeared on his other side, he added, “Brodie had made his way back here and found her.”

“Is he dead?” Aulay asked, offering Dwyn a smile as he waited for her husband’s answer.

“Aye. I snapped his neck,” Geordie said grimly as he sat on the log nearest the fire, and adjusted Dwyn to sit in his lap. “He’s about twenty feet into the woods.”

“Alick and I’ll take torches and go find the body to be sure,” Aulay said, and moved away with the youngest Buchanan brother following.

Geordie grunted at that, and then clasped Dwyn’s upper arms and murmured, “Now, let me see ye, love.”

Dwyn turned from glancing around the now-busy camp and raised her face for him to see it.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Geordie breathed, running a finger gently over her cheek as his gaze took in the various bumps, bruises and cuts on her face. As his gaze dropped to her chest, he growled, “I should have taken me time killing the bastard.”

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