Page 100 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
“And why do you want me to stay?” she asked, a tiny tendril of hope unfurling inside her.
Tell me you care for me, that we can fight for the girls together. That we can fight Moira together. That we are partners.
“There is nay reason for ye to go!” Callum thundered.
“So, Moira’s threats mean nothing. You would allow her to keep the girls with her?”
“Of course nay.”
“And she has said she will not return them if I am here.”
“That is because she is a wicked, jealous woman.”
“Who has your nieces held captive!” Lydia spat. “When I am gone, she will release them, and you can care for them as you did before. She will leave you be.”
Callum looked up at the horizon, his dark eyes narrowing, his voice a low, ominous rumble.
“We dinnae ken that.”
“Is there any other reason you want me to stay?” she asked, as he finally turned back to her, a vein pulsing in his forehead.
“Ye are me wife.”
“In name only.”
Callum grimaced. “I explained what I need from ye.”
“What youneedfrom me is a nursemaid for those girls. You have made it very clear that you and I do not have a real marriage, that we are nottogetherin any real way. Once I am gone, you can find an appropriate Scottish bride who can live in your castle and care for them just as you wish.”
His big hands shot out, gripping her upper arms painfully as he lowered his head toward her.
“And what if I dinnae want that?”
“Whatdoyou want?” she asked.
Callum’s eyes widened, his grip loosening, as if he was not even sure himself.
Lydia’s eyes filled with tears as he struggled to find the right words, his mouth opening and closing in silence as she waited to hear him say what she longed to hear.
I love ye, I want ye to stay because I need ye here with me.
Callum’s eyes dropped to her mouth, his fingers tightening around her again as he battled against himself.
He lowered his head, and Lydia opened her mouth in anticipation of a kiss before he released her, stepping away with a long growl.
“Go then,” he snapped. “Go back to yer faither, and his balls and parties and find a husband in that bunch of simpletons. At least ye willnae be stared at wherever ye go for marryin’ a beast.”
Lydia’s jaw clenched. “You have never behaved more like a beast than you have today,” she said, her voice quivering with anger as he nodded to the coachman.
Other than the vein that was pulsing in his temple, he showed no outward sign of emotion. He was a wall of granite, cold and rigid.
Lydia shook her head, emotion overwhelming her as she stared up at the high stone walls behind him. She loved this castle, the lands around it, and the man before her. But it no longer mattered.
Callum’s eyes did not leave her as she climbed into the carriage, his fingers clenching and unclenching into fists, his jaw working angrily.
As she settled in her seat, he stepped forward, slamming the carriage door behind her. His hands stayed on the carriage window as his gaze met hers, the expression on his face impossible to read.
“Dinnae travel through the night,” he said stiffly, letting go of the door and stepping back.
