The Highlander's Runaway Bride. Terri Brisbin

own death.

      ‘Haud yer wheest!’ the creature growled, stopping the coming scream with a hand over her mouth. ‘Every noise echoes in this blasted place!’

      A hand? Not a paw or claws? A hand, strong and warm across her mouth and cheeks. Eva blinked as the shape released her mouth and reached for its head.

      ‘Are you Eva MacKay?’ a man’s voice asked. He pushed back the cloak that covered him, and he leaned forward. ‘Are you?’

      ‘Aye.’ Her voice barely came out of her scratchy, dry throat.

      She’d been found. All her attempts to evade her father’s men were for naught. She would be dragged back now and forced to marry and leave these lands forever.

      Eva fell back, giving up the fight. She was so cold and in so much pain that she could not struggle against her fate any longer. The fever that had plagued her since giving birth continued to rise and fall, sapping her strength.

      ‘Give me your hand,’ the man said. ‘Give it here.’

      Glancing at him once again, she could not get a clear view of his face. There was a torch or fire somewhere close, and it threw shadows across the cave and him. One moment, his face looked like that of an angel and the next like a demon. She swallowed against the dryness of her throat and stared at him.

      Then, he held out his hand and motioned to her again. Knowing she would never be able to stand on her leg, she shook her head in refusal.

      ‘Are you naysaying me?’ He crossed his arms over his massive chest and gave her a dark glare. ‘I said, give me your hand.’

      ‘I cannot stand,’ she whispered in fear of both the pain to come and this man. ‘My foot, my knee, are...’ She pointed to her injured right leg.

      The grumbled cursing began anew as he knelt next to her and pushed her cloak aside. His indrawn breath at the trews she wore frightened her, but he ignored everything but her right leg. Lifting it with a gentleness she never expected, he slid his hand over her, pressing lightly around her knee and then on the boot that covered her foot and ankle. She could not help the gasps that escaped with each touch, but she cried out when he squeezed her ankle.

      ‘Your pardon, my lady,’ he said quietly. Easing her leg back down to the floor, he stood up. ‘I do not think it broken, only bruised badly. But that boot needs to come off so your foot can be seen to.’ The man walked a short distance away, back towards the opening of the cave and turned around as though searching for something. ‘How did this happen?’ he asked.

      ‘I fell...in,’ she whispered, glancing up at the opening above and behind her.

      His words, filled with all sorts of expletives and unimagined insults, shocked her. And yet, they did not match the ease in his manners when he approached once more and crouched next to her.

      ‘’Tis a wonder you did not kill yourself. Or was that your plan?’

      ‘Nay!’

      Surprised at his boldness, she realised she had no idea of this man’s identity, even though he had clearly been searching for her. Had her father hired mercenaries to keep her disappearance a secret from the clan and from the man coming to marry her? She stared at him, unable to answer his unthinkable query and unwilling to tell him anything.

      ‘Who are you?’ she asked. Eva pushed back with her arms, trying to sit up to face him. ‘How did you find me?’

      ‘I come from your father,’ he said with a shrug. ‘But neither of those things are important. A storm is blowing in from the north and this cave will flood very soon. We must get out of here now, for I have no desire to die in a place like this.’ His emphasis on I made it clear what he thought her intentions were.

      Spring brought powerful storms as the winter struggled to keep hold of the lands and seas this far north. The man who suggested this place to her had said it was far enough from the sea’s edge to be safe. But now, listening to the sound of approaching waves, she knew the villager had been wrong. If her mouth and throat could grow any drier, they did just then as a wave of choking fear filled her.

      ‘Come,’ he said once more, reaching for her. ‘Put your hands on my shoulders and let me get you to your feet first.’

      This time, she did as he said, reaching up and grabbing hold of his shoulders. He slid his large hands around her at her waist and lifted her, bearing most of her weight as she placed her foot on the floor. When he began to let her stand, her leg gave out and she stumbled. A moment later, she found herself cradled against his chest.

      His wide, muscular chest. He barely exerted himself in lifting her. She could feel the strength in his arms as he walked towards the entrance to the cave. As they neared the torch he’d stuck into a crack in the rock wall near the opening, she dared a glance up at his face.

      And wished she had not.

      The light from the torch caught the auburn in his hair and made it flicker. His brow gathered in a frown that made him look fierce and frightening. His chin and cheeks, not disguised by the beard he wore, seemed carved from the same hard rock of the inside of the cave. She began shivering again and could not control the way her body shook.

      ‘Are you ill?’ he asked, carrying her towards the steep path that led to the top of the cliff. ‘Christ! You are burning up!’ he growled against her head. The anger in his voice made her tremble.

      The fever must be back.

      Glancing around, she saw the path she’d not seen when trying to reach the cave. Eva had approached the openings in the ceiling of the cave when she’d slipped and fallen in. The only reason she had not died was that she slid most of the way down, hitting her foot and leg on a large rock as she came to stop on the floor. They reached it, and he stopped.

      ‘I cannot carry you up this way and I cannot help you walk up. The path is not wide enough for two of us and I will need my hands on the steeper places.’

      Her mind was so dulled by pain and fear that Eva could not come up with a solution. Then he began to lower her feet towards the ground.

      ‘Put your uninjured foot down,’ he directed. When she did, he gripped her waist until she steadied. His next action surprised her. He leaned her against the thick bushes there and removed a long length of tartan from around him. Then crouching before her, he said, ‘Come now, lady. Climb on.’

      If she had thought herself confused before, this confirmed it. Her head ached as she tried to determine what he wanted her to do. Her hesitation was noticed, for he turned and motioned to her with his hand, pointing to his back.

      ‘Carrying you on my back will be safer,’ he explained, moving back until he almost touched her legs. ‘Hold once more on to my shoulders. Lean against me and give me your injured leg first.’

      It took her several attempts and so much pain before she could position herself on his back. His touch was gentle as he guided and supported her leg around his waist and held it steady as she lifted her other one. Eva clutched his shoulders until he gave new orders.

      ‘Slide your arms around me, lady,’ he urged as he stood up. ‘It will be a more secure hold for you.’ She did as he said and she did feel more stable.

      He tossed the length of wool around her, pulling it below her and wrapping it snugly around her, tying her to him much as a babe could be worn by a mother. He made several adjustments, uttering vile words when things did not do his bidding. Then, apparently satisfied with her position and the binding holding her there on his back, he took the first step up the path.

      Between her exhaustion and pain and the warmth of his very strong body beneath her, Eva found herself drifting off to sleep as he climbed almost effortlessly up the steep trail. She woke to his voice, deep and masculine, calling out curses at the sky as the clouds opened above them. Spring rains were cold and this was just that. Only her head was above the woollen covering to feel it but he was more exposed and was getting soaked.

      ‘Hold on, lady,’