Page 14 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“I’m in nay mood to argue, lass,” he said wearily.
“I daenae want to argue,” she responded softly.
He glanced up at her and studied her face for a long moment. With a nod, he flung out a hand, indicating she could sit next to him if she wanted.
Amara hesitated only briefly, then adjusted the blanket so that she could sit on it. They sat there in the quiet, broken only by the crack and snap of the fire. Myles sat against a tree trunk, awake this time, but he looked over at them, a scowl on his face. William was asleep in his bedroll, unaware of the drama that had gone on this night.
“I ken ye daenae wish to tell me me faither’s words,” Amara said softly, keeping her voice low in the hopes that Myles wouldn’t hear their conversation. He stiffened but didn’t say anything. “Even though I have a right to ken, but I willnae press the matter,” she couldn’t help adding.
He opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “That is nae what I wanted to talk to ye about. Nae now anyway.”
Rhys relaxed slightly but his shoulders were still a bit tense as he waited for her to continue.
“I’ve come to realize that there is nay home for me at Murdoch Castle anymore, and perhaps that is also what ye realized yerself after speaking with me faither.” Amara nearly winced at the sadness tinting her words.
“’Tis still yer home,” Rhys said, turning to look at her with raised eyebrows.
“Aye, but I’m nae welcomed there anymore.” There was no self-pity in her voice, just cold acceptance.
“Yer clan —”
“Aye, me clan would welcome me. If me faither allowed it,” she added with a frown. “He dinnae used to be so cold. We used to be very close. Me maither used to tease us about it because he dinnae treat me like a girl. He treated me like a son at times, takin’ me fishin’ and teachin’ me sword play and fightin’. Whenever he wasn’t busy, I was at his side.”
Amara swallowed past the lump in her throat that rose at the fond memories. “That man,” she said, then shook her head. “Thatman disappeared and I daenae think he will return.”
Rhys set the stick he’d been using to absently stir the coals aside and turned slightly to face her. “What are ye tryin’ to say, lass?”
Amara took a deep breath. Now that she’d made the decision, she wasn’t sure how to approach him with it. The fear of Rhys rejecting her too made her veins stiff with ice cold fear, but she had to know before they went any further.
“I willnae try to escape again,” she finally said. Rhys just stared at her, waiting for her to continue. “I will willingly go with ye, Laird O’Donnell.”
His expression didn’t change, but he turned even more so that they were completely facing each other. “In exchange for what?”
Amara blinked at him, then blinked again. “What do ye mean?”
“What do ye want in exchange for yer cooperation — for nae tryin’ to escape, and for comin’ to me castle without anymorefuss?” Rhys turned to face her with a boyish grin playing at his features, though he still somehow remained stoic. “This is how these things go, Lady Amara. We negotiate.”
Amara didn’t know how to respond. She’d wasn’t really sure what she’d expected his reaction would be, but it was most certainly not this. She took a moment before responding.
“Just let me live and nae be treated as a prisoner,” she finally said.
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze briefly dropping to her mouth before meeting her eyes again. Amara felt his look as if he’d actually touched her, as if his lips had actually pressed against hers. She bit her bottom lip nervously and his gaze dropped again. Orange and red shimmered in his dark eyes, cast there by the firelight.
“Then how do ye wish to be treated?” His voice was thick and a bit gruff.
Amara shivered as his deep voice trailed a path across her nerves, sending quivers of awareness throughout her body. She had the feeling his question had multiple meanings, but she was too inexperienced to understand them.
“As a… guest, I suppose,” she said, surprised at how husky her voice sounded.
“Ye are a Murdoch,” he said as if she didn’t know which clan she belonged to.
“Aye, and we are still under the terms of the truce, nay matter how tenuous the terms may be,” Amara reminded him.
“Those terms were broken when yer faither took Finn as prisoner.”
“And whenyekidnapped me?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Aye, then as well.”
