Page 51 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“I cannae.”
“Tell me it’s wrong.”
“But itiswrong.”
He groaned against her skin, but neither of them moved.
Amara’s fingers tugged at his belt. His hand fisted in her skirts.
Then —
A sharp knock rapped against the door to the study followed by a voice. “Me laird?”
Billy.
Rhys froze.
Amara’s breath caught, and she pulled away as if burned.
“Daenae,” Rhys said quickly, reaching for her. “It’s nothin’. He’ll leave.”
But she was already backing toward the hearth, gown askew, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.
William’s voice rang out again, this time more urgent. “Rhys! Rhys! It’s Finn. He’s back. But he’s hurt. He’s hurt badly.”
Everything shattered.
Rhys turned toward the door, his heart slamming in his ears.
“Come in, Billy,” he barked.
The door opened. William stepped in, soaked in sweat and grime, his face pale.
“He made it to the outer watchtower,” he said quickly. “Collapsed right there. He’s breathin’, but barely. We’ve got the healer with him now.”
Rhys was already moving, grabbing his sword and strapping it to his hip.
Behind him, Amara stood still, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
He paused at the door. Looked at her.
Something cracked in his chest.
“I’ll… I’ll return, please stay.”
She didn’t reply.
Only nodded once, lips pressed into a thin line.
He left.
And the door shut with a hollow echo.
Rhys turned to leave, his pulse still hammering from the fire Amara had lit in his blood. But halfway through the door, he stopped.
Something clawed at his spine. Regret. Or guilt. Or maybe both.
He turned back around.
