Page 46 of A Healer for the Wicked Highlander

He was still smiling to himself long after he was left alone. His heart was hammering.

Aye, I might be a fool.

But she was his.

The library was peaceful that evening. At least, it was until the door opened.

Freya didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The shift in the air, the weight of his presence. It was unmistakable.

She felt his gaze settle on her, but he didn’t speak her name, which was what she expected. Instead, his attention moved to Marissa.

“I need a word,” he told her.

Marissa set her book aside. “Aye, Yer Lairdship. What is it?”

Freya tensed seeing him like that. Something assured her that she knew exactly why he was there. His eyes flickered on her face for a moment, before his focus shifted back to her sister once more.

“The book ye gave me to read,” he said, carefully. “The one about the warrior and the lass who—” he hesitated to finish.

Marissa’s expression immediately cheered up. She loved talking about books and writing, especially her own books and her own writing. “Aye. What of it?”

Michael exhaled. “Yer inspiration for it. Can ye tell me about it?”

Freya resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course. He was here to confirm or disperse his suspicions. And she would gladly listen to this conversation.

“I wanted to write a beautiful love story about two people who loved each other,” Marissa said simply.

“Aye,” Michael nodded. “But that love story… did ye come up with it yerself?”

“Nay,” she smiled. “It was inspired by me parents. Byourparents.”

Michael frowned, obviously not entirely convinced. “The warrior in yer story…”

“Is based on me faither,” Marissa gladly clarified. “Why? Is he nae a good character?”

“He is… just… I was wonderin’,” Michael started explaining himself, but it was obviously that he was only now starting to realize the error of his understanding of the book. Freya had to admit that she was relishing the sight much more than she thought she would be.

“In a way, it is our family’s history,” Marissa beamed, her eyes sparkling. Then, she suddenly seemed concerned. “If the warrior doesnae seem like a good character, I still daenae wish to changehim. It is how he was, and I daenae wish to rewrite our own family’s history.”

Freya was proud to hear her sister speak in such a manner.

“Of course,” Michael said, nodding again. “I was merely askin’ out of curiosity.”

There was a mischievous gleam in Freya’s eyes. “Why daenae ye girls retire? It is late. I shall be with ye shortly.”

Having given Freya a kiss, both Abigail and Marissa bid them good night. The library door closed behind them, and now, Micheal and Freya were left alone. She couldn’t help but tease him a little. He deserved that much for the shock of not seeing him in bed next to her, after what had happened.

“Ye really are a stubborn man, ye ken that?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the bookshelf. “Aye, well… I had to be sure.”

She arched a brow. “Did ye really think that I would twist me sister’s own words to spare yer feelings?”

His jaw clenched. “I dinnae think ye a liar.”

“But ye had to be certain,” she reminded him.

She caught him there. He was left without a word.