Page 9 of The Laird's Dark Obsession

After only a couple of minutes, her fingers were so numb that she couldn’t even feel them anymore and she could feel her grip slipping away. Just as her hand forcefully relaxed, a hand gripped her wrist.

Looking up, she was shocked to see a wide-eyed Hunter leaning over the window sill and holding her.

“Give me yer other hand,” he barked.

She did so without hesitation. With one heave, Hunter had her through the window and they both fell to the floor. She sighed and closed her eyes tightly, glad to be safe—but just for how long would that be?

Sitting up, she shook her hands back and forth to try and regain feeling in her fingers.

Hands were on her shoulders then, squeezing them hard.

“What in God’s creation were ye thinking, Kira?” he snapped.

She looked at him to see his brows scrunched together, his eyes wide, and his chest heaving. Honestly, it was impossible to decipher if he was pissed or scared.

“Even if life here will nae be kind to ye, surely even someone like yerself kens a death by one’s own hand has nay honor.”

Kira had to let the words really sink in to grasp what he was trying to say. When it hit her, Kira snorted and started to rise to her feet. She winced a bit, feeling a twinge in her ankle from when she slipped on the ledge.

“Goodness, Hunter. I would never take my own life. Think I would give ye the satisfaction of reducing me to something so barbaric? I was simply trying to escape.”

Hunter was towering overhead in an instant. It felt like he was always grabbing at her chin, only that time instead of using it to keep her gaze on his, he tilted her head side to side in examination.

“Ye’re hurt,” he said plainly.

“So?” Kira said, jerking her face away and moving away from him.

There was nothing more than a scrape on her cheek, some bruising on her hands, and her ankle a bit sore. She didn’t know what he was trying to get from playing concerned, but she wasn’t going to give in to it.

When she moved to turn back to her bed, he grabbed her wrist and she winced. Alright, the wrist he had caught her with hurt too. And then, she was swept up in his arms for the second time in the past twenty-four hours and he was walking toward the door.

“Put me down!” she insisted.

“Nay,” he stated firmly. “Ye’re seeing a healer.”

Kira pushed on his chest but her lame wrist was more of a liability than an aid in any force. “What are ye playing at? I am nae going to be convinced that ye care.”

It was as though there was a lever in Hunter’s mind, one that could be flipped and his expressions would change in an instant. The wide-eyed panic and concerned, furrowed brow that had just been there were gone; all that was left was a flat expression and a distant look in his hazel eyes.

“A bargaining chip is nae as available if it is damaged,” he growled.

She huffed but didn’t protest more. His heart was racing, she could feel it pounding against the walls of his chest. She peered up at him, trying to read past the stony exterior, wanting to understand what was behind that erratic heartbeat. Had it simply been because his plan had nearly been foiled by her untimely death… or was there something more?

She looked away, staring down the corridor. It was foolish to even consider it or hope.

Once at the infirmary, he sat her down on a cot and barked orders at the staff. Kira watched as the servants moved about him, trying to steal a glance into the world that she had been locked out of for the past six years. Was he known to be a cruel Laird? Did his people fear him? Something told her it wasn’t that exactly, considering the cold glares that came her way upon her arrival. Then again, maybe they all hated her because of her partto play in the downfall of Hunter’s father and were now at the mercy of this cold, fierce man.

Her ankle and wrist were seen to first, a balm that felt warm as it seeped into her skin was applied before bandages were wrapped firmly around them; though she was assured that she would be able to remove them in a day or two.

When a healer went to touch her cheek to see the scrape the stone ledge had left in the fall, his hand was slapped away. “Ye’ve done enough. Go,” Hunter said evenly.

The healer bowed his head and scurried away. Hunter sat down on the stool in front of her and took a small cloth from the bucket of clean, warm water. He was then cleaning the wound with such a light touch that Kira wanted to weep. She stared at him, more confused than ever.

Was he intentionally trying to leave her perplexed, maybe even hoping? She thought back to how she thought he might kiss her and her cheeks burned.

“Ye’re warm. Are ye getting a fever?” Hunter queried, the back of his hand pressing to her forehead.

She batted his hand away. “I’m fine. Just hurry up.”