Page 48 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
Daisy’s breath had evened out long ago. A soft snore now curled from her slightly open mouth with her rabbit was tucked beneath her arm and the wool blanket pulled up to her chin.
Rhys stayed still.
He didn’t dare move.
Not until Amara shifted beside them, her hand brushing lightly across the coverlet as she set up.
“I should go,” she whispered, voice barely above a breath.
Rhys blinked, pulling his eyes from his daughter’s sleeping face. “It’s late.”
“Aye. All the more reason.”
She started to rise, careful not to disturb the child, but his hand shot out gently and instinctively and closed around her wrist.
“Come with me.”
Amara paused, brows lifting.
“To me study,” he clarified. “Just for a moment.”
A beat passed.
Then she nodded.
They left the room quietly. Amara passed the tinctures to the nurse who took over rubbing the creams along Daisy’s leg and head as they walked out.
Rhys signaled to the guard posted outside and murmured for a kettle and something warm for the lady. By the time they reached his study, the fire had been stoked and a new tray laid out with a pot of tea, two cups, and a crystal decanter of whisky.
He poured a dram into his own glass and took a slow sip.
Amara stood by the fire, arms crossed gaze flicking from the bookshelves to the flicker of orange and gold on the stone floor.
He set her cup down, but before he could finish pouring the tea, she snatched the bottle from his hand and tipped a finger’s worth into her cup.
Rhys blinked. Then laughed.
She met his eyes. “What? Did ye think I’d be too dainty for a drop?”
He tilted his head. “I wasnae sure what I thought.”
Amara sat down across from him, folding her legs beneath her. She clutched the cup close as if it might run away.
He studied her in silence. The curve of her cheek, the faint red in her eyes that told him she might have cried herself to sleep the night before.
“Thank ye,” he said quietly.
She looked up.
“For takin’ care of Daisy.”
She didn’t’ answer right away. Just gave a small nod.
“She means… everythin',” he said. “I ken most lairds say that about their heirs, but it’s different with her. It’s nae just about lineage or duty.”
Amara didn’t interrupt. She only listened.
“When the girl’s maither died… Daisy was but a babe. And I was just learnin’ how to be a faither.”
