Page 28 of The Highlander’s Untamed Lady

“You don’t know what you’re doing, girl.” He shoved hard at her shoulders.

Her fist flew out and caught him with enough force to turn his face. A surge of energy shot through her and ignited something inside her she never wanted to go out. It wasn’t the weakness in him which had sparked it, nor was it his pain. No, it was her own strength.

“You’re an old man.” She caught his ankle with her shin and shoved him backward so he fell hard into the dirt. “And I am a warrior.”

He sneered up at her. “You’re feral, exactly as I’ve always said.”

“Not feral.” She put her foot to his throat and gazed down at him. “Powerful.” She cut a hard look at the men still fighting. “Enough.”

They stilled at the authority of her voice. She glanced to where Evander had dragged himself to a slumped sitting position. The linen of his shirt had gone crimson with too much of his blood.

Her father laughed, a winded wheeze of an exhale. “You’re more like me than you care to admit. Come home with me, girl. Leave these barbarians to their pathetic lives of starvation and strife.”

“What?” She was so surprised by what he’d said, she let the pressure holding him down slacken. After all he’d done to her, hope wavered in her chest. She hated herself for it, and yet she could not stop the swell of longing. To be wanted by the father who had cast her aside. To be loved.

He pushed her off him and leapt to his feet. “I want you home, girl.”

“Never.” Evander threw himself at her father. She hadn’t even seen him rise.

He drew back his arm and punched her father in the face. Blood spurted from his nose, and her father gave an angry howl of anguish.

He clutched his face and bent over. “Take the coin and leave her to me.” Her father’s face was bright with blood when he looked up. “Take the gold.”

Evander limped in front of Diana. “Ye’ll get my wife over my dead body.”

She stared at Evander’s wavering back, blocking her father from being able to reach her. He would die for her. To protect her. He had his gold for his people and still he was fighting. All for her.

This – this was love. To sacrifice one’s life for the care of another.

And it was an act she too was willing to do. Diana threw herself to the ground and let her hands clasp around the cold metal of the pistol while she rolled. She popped up and lifted the weapon, aiming it directly at her father, at the man who would so readily kill the husband she loved.

Chapter Twelve

The Earl of Cornwall’s bloody face lifted in astonishment. Evander turned and found Diana with a pistol in her hands, aimed at her father.

Cornwall sneered. “You can’t do it.”

A loud bang came from the gun and his shoulder jolted backward. Evander used the distraction to his advantage. He lunged through the cloud of acrid smoke and slammed Lord Cornwall to the ground. The man grunted below him, but Evander did not move. The cut on his chest left him near blind with pain, but he let the weight of his body pin the earl where he lay.

Diana approached with a dagger in her hand. The blade trembled. Evander knew she could do it if she must and also appreciated the difficulty of the action – no matter the hurt her father had caused.

And he knew men like Cornwall. He would persist until one of them was dead. Warmth from the earl’s shattered shoulder seeped against Evander’s knee while he held the man in place. Evander held out his hand for the blade.

This must end.

Lord Cornwall bolted upright suddenly, his arm sweeping upward. A streak of black flashed in front of Evander, followed by a savage rending tear. Diana screamed behind him, but Evander could not pull his gaze from where Zeus’ jaws clamped on the fragile flesh of Cornwall’s neck, now jagged and bloody. A blade fell from the earl’s clenched fist.

Evander ignored the burning of his chest and drew himself to his feet. Diana. She would be upset. She needed to be comforted. She needed…him.

She needed him, and he needed her.

He pulled her against him, and she came willingly, wrapping tight and secure around him. Agony pulsed hot in his chest, but he ignored it, for the pleasure of holding her in his arms was far, far greater.

“I would never have gone with him,” she breathed. “I thought…I thought I was going to lose you.”

He smoothed her hair and kissed the crown of her head before tilting her face to his and kissing her full on the lips.

She put her hands to his chest and gasped. “Your injury.”