Page 95 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
James was dead, and Adam had been able to protect her for the final time, but nothing between them had changed. Would he allow her to be part of his life now that he had almost died defending her, or was he determined to treat her as a stranger?
“Thank ye for savin’ me,” she said simply. “But what he said was true.”
Adam frowned at her.
“This marriage isnae real, is it? Nae yet.”
Steam was rising from him as though he had climbed out of a bath and straight into the cold air. Sweat ran down his arms, and his hair was plastered to his shoulders—he was every bit the warrior she needed, but he was not the man she wished him to be.
“We arenae really husband and wife, Adam. Neither of us wanted this marriage, and now Laura is avenged. She can come home, and ye can continue yer life as ye wanted—without a wife.”
She waited, praying he would contradict her, that he would confess he no longer felt that way—that heneededher.
Instead, he stepped forward, backing her up against a wooden beam, his eyes dark and brooding. “And what do ye mean by that, lass?”
Emily’s heart sank. “I mean, I will do as we always intended. I will return to me faither and braither. I willnae have to fear that James will come for me again, and ye can continue as before.”
Tell me ye want me to stay.
“Is that what ye had planned all along?” he growled.
“Ye are the one who told me if we ended up married, we would live separately. Well, we dinnae have to live close to each other at all now. We can be miles apart. That might suit ye better.”
Adam pushed against her, trapping her between the hard wood of the beam and his body. She could feel the heat of him as his scent surrounded her.
“I have just saved yer life, lass, and now ye choose to leave so soon?”
“I want a husband, Adam,” she said softly. “I dinnae want to live in a castle with a stranger I barely see. I want a partner in me life, toshareme life, and that isnae what ye want.”
There was a long silence as she stopped speaking. Adam seemed to be studying her differently, and for a few seconds, hope flared in her heart that he might admit that he wanted that, too.
But then he stepped away.
Emily’s chest was tight, her heart splintering into a thousand pieces as his walls came up, his expression stern as he shook his head.
“Ye dinnae ken what ye are askin’ for. That isnae somethin’ I can give ye.”
Time was suspended between them. The bustle of the courtyard faded away, the sounds of the guards as they removed James’s body diminishing to nothing.
So this is our goodbye.Why did I ever believe it could turn into something more?
“Then I am nae askin’,” she replied sadly. “Thank ye for what ye have done today and for everythin’ ye have done for me. Ye protected me, and ye helped me family. For that, I will always be grateful.”
Her voice caught on the last word as she pictured her future in Wilkinson Castle, looking out over her lands, wondering what Adam might be doing. Perhaps in time, she would hear reports that he had finally taken a wife and forgotten about her completely.
It was a miserable idea.
Adam suddenly stepped forward, his hands around her waist as he pushed her back against the beam again, leaning down so that he could look her in the eye. He stared at her, almost in disbelief.
“I want ye to reconsider,” he insisted. “We could be happy enough. Ye and I dinnae need a traditional marriage. We can be together as before. I ken ye like it here, Emily. Why must ye ask for somethin’ I cannae give?”
They stared at one another for an endless second, and then Adam crushed her body to his, lifting her and capturing her lips with his own, driving his tongue into her mouth, desperate and urgent. The intensity of the kiss overwhelmed her, and her fingers clutched at his shoulders helplessly.
After what felt like an eternity, he pulled back, his eyes glistening in the darkness of the stables.
“I ken ye want me.”
Emily felt the tears form at the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She gently pushed him away, keeping her composure. She didn’t want them to part on bad terms, or with her raging at him.
