Page 4 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
The louder the footsteps got, the tighter she held on to the girl.
Soon, the footsteps stopped, and the kitchen door swung open, the sharp snap of its hinges sending a chill down Ava’s spine.
Standing in the doorway was a warrior. A rather handsome warrior with biceps that bulged in the sunlight. He walked into the kitchen, a rather stern glare on his face.
Ava held on even tighter to Margaret and studied the warrior. His torn and bloodied clothes clung to his glistening skin. Ava noticed a few cuts here and there on his chest and the visible parts of his stomach.
His eyes searched the kitchen, taking in the walls, the cabinets, and the bowl of bannocks on the floor, before finally settling on Ava and Margaret. The glare on his face lingered as he took another step into the kitchen, now fully out of the sun.
Margaret tightened her arms around Ava’s waist, radiating such fear that Ava could almost taste it.
“You’re all right, child,” Ava whispered, her eyes not leaving the warrior. “You’re all right.”
For some reason, it was incredibly hard for her to tell if she was reassuring Margaret or herself.
CHAPTER2
Ava continuedto study the warrior as he walked further into the kitchen. Her eyes swept over the tartan of his kilt and then snapped back at his face almost with intense urgency. If her heart could beat any faster, it would burst through her chest and land straight on the floor.
However, she noticed almost immediately that the warrior’s eyes had refused to leave Margaret. Not even once.
Ava cleared her throat once she felt her courage slowly return. She needed to gain control of this situation one way or the other.
“Might I help you, Sir?” she finally managed to ask, feeling her throat close up almost immediately.
Her eyes darted back to the tartan the man was wearing, and, for some reason, her fear grew.
He didn’t reply. Not even a nod or an acknowledgment of her question. His eyes, which were beginning to soften, remained solely on Margaret.
“I said, might I help you, Sir?” Ava repeated, frustration lacing her voice now.
“I heard ye the first time.” The warrior’s voice was curt and sharp.
“Oh, did you, now? I couldn’t tell,” Ava scoffed.
“Child,” the warrior called, his voice almost breaking as he continued to stare at Margaret.
For a second, Ava could’ve sworn she saw tears fill his eyes.
“Margaret, dear. Why don’t you go play with the other girls? I shall deal with this—this man.”
Ava felt Margaret’s grip slacken around her waist.
“Nay!” the warrior yelled, taking Ava aback for some reason and causing Margaret to flinch. Her arms tightened around Ava’s waist once again.
Ava’s head snapped up, and she glared at him. “I am not sure that I appreciate the tone you are taking with me inmyhouse, Sir.”
“I will fully apologize once I am out of here. How about that?”
Ava frowned, realizing for the first time since this stranger barged into the kitchen that she hadn’t asked him the important questions.
“What do you want? Who are you?” The words practically rolled off her tongue like scalding rocks.
The warrior crouched down and craned his neck, leaning towards Margaret. “I have been searchin’ for ye for a long time, child.”
He tried to reach for her face, but she retreated even further, trying to hide her entire body behind Ava.
“Did I say you could touch her?” Ava turned again to look at Margaret, concern written all over her face. “Margaret, are you all right?”
