Page 13 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“Ye wouldnae have had to look had ye been keepin’ watch like ye were supposed to,” Rhys snapped. He turned to Amara. “Let’s get back to camp and get some sleep. We ride at first light.”
6
He was goin’ to kiss me. Had Myles not come along, he would have kissed me. And I wouldnae have done a thing to stop him.
Amara mentally berated herself all the way back to camp. She went directly to her blanket and laid down. Her thoughts too twisted to unravel and make sense of the moment.
So easily she had romantic thoughts about the man who had kidnapped her. Sure, she knew that he had the handsome looks of a devil, always had, but he was Laird O’Donnell, her clan’s worst enemy.
“Ye were supposed to be on watch,” Rhys snapped, and Amara peeked open her eyes to see the laird squaring off with Myles.
“I was,” the other man defended.
“Ye were sound asleep, yer jaw slack and ye were snorin’ like a bear in hibernation,” Rhys snarled.
Amara snuggled deeper into the blanket and closed her eyes, grateful for the distraction at Myles’ expense.
“Ye should have stopped her,” Rhys continued.
“Ye should have stoppedyerself,” Myles countered, his tone clearly saying he was disgusted. Or maybe disappointed, Amara wasn’t sure which.
“Explain yerself.”
“Ye think I dinnae see ye two?” Myles hissed. Amanda stiffened and clutched the blanket to her throat. “Ye were about to kiss the lass.” His tone was accusatory. “If I hadnae come along."
“’Tis none of yer business,” Rhys snapped. Although she couldn’t see the men, her back tingled as if Rhys had turned to look at her. She wanted to peek, to see if he was, but remained still, with her eyes closed.
“She’s Murdoch’s daughter.”
“I ken very well who she is,” Rhys growled. “Best ye remember who ye are and that ye're talkin’ to yer laird.”
Silence spread across the campsite. Amara imagined Myles stiffening as he realized he may have taken things too far. One didn’t chastise the laird, no matter the reason.
The sound of footsteps retreating reached her next and Amara figured Myles had left to take up his post again. She waited a good while before turning on her other side and sneaking a look between lowered lids. Rhys sat by the fire stirring the coals, his back to her.
His shoulders were stiff, as if he had the weight of life on them. She watched him for a long while, remembering again how he’d been about to kiss her. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Amara wished they could have had that kiss. She wanted to know if his lips were soft or firm, if they were warm or cool. She’d never been kissed before, so she didn’t know what to expect, but it was she did know that she definitely wanted.
He willnae tell me what Faither said because he wants to save me feelings?
The idea of an O’Donnell, much less the laird, wanting to protect her feelings was so ludicrous that she mentally shook her head at the thought. But then, she couldn’t think what other reason there could have been. He should have delighted in hurting her more, as his enemy, but he didn’t make the move.
The man is confusing, Amara thought with irritation. He was a contradiction to the warrior she’d seen, the man whose eyes had been hard and watchful, his body tense and ready to face anydanger. The man who had kidnapped her, thrown her over his shoulder and put her on his horse.
Amara watched him stir the coals, his plaid stretching across his broad shoulders as he moved. The slight moonlight barely broke through the canopy of trees, it’s silvery light not quite reaching Rhys’s head.
What am I goin’ to do now? Where will I go? I cannae go home, not after Faither rejected me.
What would I be goin’ home to? A faither who’d rather see his daughter in enemy hands than in the safety of me own home? The comfort of me own clan?
Amara squeezed her eyes shut as her situation plagued her thoughts. She couldn’t return to Murdoch Castle. She wasn’t wanted there. That was painfully obvious with her father’s rejection. She wondered briefly what would happen if she did return, if her father would be furious, or resigned, or worse, disappointed.
She had no way of knowing. Her father was nothing like the man he used to be before her mother died. It had been six long years and the distance between father and daughter only continued to grow. Time had not made anything better. More time likely wouldn’t either.
Nay, me life is nay longer with me people. But where, then, is it?
Amara opened her eyes and looked at Rhys again. He hadn’t moved from his position, just sat there slowly stirring the coals. Every now and then, he grabbed a branch and put it over the flames to keep the fire going.
She sat up, tugging the blanket around her, then walked over to him. He didn’t look up when she stepped up next to him.
