Page 49 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“Did ye love her?”
Rhys looked into the fire.
“I respected her. She was clever and tenacious and kind. We married for an alliance, but she never treated it like a burden. She loved Daisy fiercely. It was her dyin’ breath.”
He cleared his tight throat and swirled the whisky in his glass before continuing.
“She was slaughtered at that feast meant for peace. The Murdochs pretended to break bread when all the while they were plottin' a massacre.”
Amara was quiet. Too quiet.
When he finally looked back at her, her eyes shimmered.
“I’ve been tryin’ to protect her ever since. From grief, from pain… from any sharp thing in this world, while also letting her fall and fail so she can learn to get back up again.”
She held his gaze. “Even from me?”
His heart stuttered. “Aye, even from ye.”
The words hung between them, heavy as a stone.
“But I was wrong,” he added, voice lower now. “She… she sees somethin’ in ye, and mayhap I do too.”
Amara blinked.
The flames crackled softly. Her cup remained untouched on the table.
Rhys leaned forward, his voice hoarse with something he couldn’t quite name.
Firelight danced across the side of her face, and Rhys couldn’t look away.
She was quiet, cradling her spiked tea but not drinking. Her hair had fallen forward again, soft waves catching the glow like threads of gold. Her lashes cast shadows on her cheekbones. Her expression was unreadable. She looked closed-off, and yet was still there.
Still here.
“I never meant for ye to feel like a prisoner,” he said at last.
Amara looked up, startled.
“I ken it’s me own fault,” he went on. “that ye’ve nowhere else to go. That I kidnapped ye and then dragged ye here without any allies.”
A bitter laugh slipped from her lips. “At least the child and the maid like me.”
Rhys flinched. “I dinnae plan this, Amara. I daenae ken what to do.”
“But yedidplan to keep me.”
“Iplannedto keep ye safe.”
“Same thing.”
The tension simmered, and Rhys found himself on the edge of frustration once again. He wasn’t good at talking like this. Not like this. Not with his heart cracked open like this.
“I just…” he started, then paused. “I dinnae like to see ye hurtin’, and I hated kenning that I caused it… even if I did it on purpose.”
She blinked at that, stunned by his honesty.
“I saw ye in the courtyard today, runnin’ after Daisy,” he reminded her.
