Page 19 of The Heart of a Highlander
“I choose William,” she said to the protest of the other men.
“If he splits the apple, will we all get a chance?” one of the men demanded.
The idea of Maximilian being shot at multiple times made her feel as if she would faint, and just as she felt it, Maximilian did it. He dropped like a stone thrown hard in the dirt. Ada turned to start toward him, her heart jerking in her chest, but Brothwell bid her hold, and she feared going to her young friend would make matters worse for him. But William apparently had no worries of angering Brothwell and immediately went to Maximilian’s side. As the giant warrior kneeled, his shoulder-length black locks fell across his face to obscure his features, but she could hear the concern in his voice and see it in the careful way he lifted Maximilian’s head and cradled it in his hands. Long, sure fingers curved around the lad’s sandy-brown hair, and an unexpected longing pierced Ada’s chest.
She blinked, and her cheeks heated as she stole a quick glance to ensure no one realized the ridiculous wanting flowing through her. When she discovered all eyes were focused on William, she examined her feelings for one brief moment as William roused the boy and the other men—swine, the lot of them—jeered at him for his kindness. William did not appear to notice, or perhaps he simply did not care. He seemed to be a confident enough man that the latter could be true.
She tried to push away the longing. It was an impossible dream to be cradled and cared for and loved simply for herself, not because of the gifts the fae had given her. To wed for love. This was her secret desire that would never be fulfilled. A marriage of passionate love was what her parents had possessed, but it was not to be for her.
She glanced at the men around her. Not one of them cared a whit about her. They only cared about the power she possessed inside her. Not even her stepbrother. Her gaze skittered to the giant warrior now helping a lad he did not even know to his feet. Perhaps… No, not likely. Not even William MacLean. Yes, he was displaying honorable qualities, but even honorable men had desires that drove them.
A thought barreled into her. Maybe she had a bargaining chip she’d never truly considered: herself.
