Under the Highlander's Spell Read Free

the lad to live, though the mother hoped and the lad fought bravely for his life.”
    â€œI admire your courage. There are not many who will give their life for another.”
    â€œI think I like you and your compliments,” she teased. “But alas, I cannot accept compliments for doing my duty. I am a healer; it is my obligation to heal.”
    â€œEven at your own peril?”
    â€œI take a risk whenever I tend the ailing. I never know if I will fall to an illness that plagues a village. I can only trust in my knowledge and have faith that all will turn out well.”
    â€œDid you have faith while tied to the stake?”
    â€œIt was all I had.”
    â€œHave you ever been accused of being a witch before?” he asked.
    â€œNo. I have been fortunate, though aware of the risks.”
    â€œYet it doesn’t stop you.”
    â€œYou are a warrior?” she asked.
    â€œYes,” he answered proudly.
    â€œYou know the risks when you enter a battle. Yet you enter it knowing you could die.”
    â€œI am defending my land,” he argued.
    â€œI am defending life,” she said with equal pride.
    â€œBut you are only a wo—”
    â€œDo not say what I think you mean to say, for it will surely insult me.”
    He noticed her eyes twinkle with mirth and her lips fight a teasing smile, but her words had been edged with a boldness that cautioned him. She had meant what she said.
    She sat up suddenly and pointed a few feet ahead. “There’s a narrow path to the left.”
    They turned where she directed. It could hardly be called a path. Tree branches threatened to knock Artair and his men off their horses and forced them to hunch down over their saddles. He did, however, find being hunched over Zia…pleasant. Her hair smelled sweet, like a freshly plucked bouquet of flowers, the spiky tendrils tickled his cheek, and damned if her plump lips weren’t ripe for kissing.
    He was glad to see that the path cleared just ahead. If he remained hovering over her much longer he damn well was going to kiss her.
    With that thought heavy on his mind, Artair lifted his head too soon and a tree branch smacked him in the forehead.
    He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut against the rush of pain.
    He jolted when he felt her fingers explore his forehead and slowly opened his eyes. She was focused on seeing to his care, but to him her fingertips felt cool and her touch more like a caress.
    â€œNothing serious. It leaves a welt that will disappear soon enough,” she advised.
    He had hoped her fingers would linger longer, but with her examination finished, her touch vanished and disappointment rushed over him.
    â€œThere is another turn a few feet ahead and it would be best if your men walked the horses.”
    He followed her lead and ordered his men to dismount. Zia slipped out of his arms and off his horse before he could help her and walked a few feet away from him. It wasn’t a far distance, but oddly enough, he felt as if she had slipped from his grasp.
    He watched her stretch her shoulders back, swing her arms out and roll her head from side to side. Then she smiled wide. Her beauty stunned him and for a moment, a sheer moment, he wondered if she was a witch for she certainly seemed to be bewitching him.
    Her clothes—dark blue skirt and pale yellow blouse—while common, fit her body like the silks and velvet garments tailored for royals, and she carried herself with the same distinction.
    Nessie, his dog, went over and immediately made friends with her, but then Nessie did whatever she wanted to do.
    â€œShe is a beauty, so friendly and obedient,” Zia said.
    Artair laughed. “Nessie is far from obedient. She has a mind of her own.”
    Zia kissed the mutt on the head. “Smart lass.”
    â€œIs this no name, no direction place close?” Artair asked returning to the matter at hand.
    â€œWe will reach it by noon tomorrow.”
    She