Page 69 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
But before she could turn, a shout echoed down the hall.
“Rhys!”
It was William, his head poking around the corner with Myles trailing behind.
“Come on then, missin’ supper with the likes of us. The both of ye! Ye’ll both come to drink with us,” Myles called, already loosening his collar.
Rhys raised a brow. “Looks like ye have already been at the drink. Besides, Daisy needs to get to bed.”
A loud, booming voice carried down the dark corridor suddenly, startling Amara out of her slippers. “Oi! NURSE!”
They all turned to face the origin of the sound, and William leaned against the wall, a wide grin spread across his face.
“We’re celebratin’, aye? Nay war, Finn’s returned, nay more scowls at least for now,” he said with a shrug.
Myles waggled his brows as his eyes shifted toward the sound of hurried footsteps closing the distance to them. A wide woman came into view, a flush to her cheeks and her lips pursed so as to not say anything cross.
“Come on, then. Nurse is here. Both of ye!” William called out from over his shoulder. He had already made his way back down the stairwell, and Myles followed, taking the stairs two at a time.
Amara blinked. “Me?” Her eyes connected with Rhys for his decision.
“Aye, ye!” Myles called out, “Ye’ll keep our dark and stormy laird from throwin’ cups at our heads.”
Rhys looked at her. “Ye daenae have to…”
“Oh, nay. I mean…Iwantto,” Amara said, surprising even herself.
Rhys’s gaze darkened, but not in anger. The look on his face reminded her of the night they had spent together. His eyes just as dark and just as in need as when he knelt before her at the side of her bed.
“Fine,” he said with sinful grace. “But I’ll just be stayin’ for one drink. Ye may do as ye please, of course.”
Myles cackled in the background, mocking Rhys. “Pshh!Onedrink.Right.”
William whooped from the bottom of the stairs. “We’ll see about that one drink, Rhys. Now stop yer dallyin’. Let’s go!”
The group arrived at the tavern just as the last light gave out behind the hills.
Rhys held the door open and let Amara enter ahead of him, his hand brushing the small of her back on instinct, and she didn’t flinch away from it. Nor did she look back. She just stepped into the warmth and noise behind Myles like she belonged there.
And damn him, she did. She belonged everywhere…with me.
William rushed around him to catch up with Myles and the two started on, hunched together and speaking lowly about something secret, and then the two men exchanged some kind of agreement.
A bet.
“Now, let’s drink!” Myles said loudly, turning toward the rest of the tavern which elicited a loud shout from those already present, and an even louder shout followed when they all realized who said it and that the laird was there as well.
“Nowthisis how a victory feels, Rhys,” William said happily.
Rhys gave him a look. “There was nay victory. Nay battle.”
Myles answered for him. “Aye, but therewaspeace. And peace deserves a drink.”
They claimed a table near the hearth. The tavern was full and on the brink of rowdy. The air was thick with firewood, ale, and stewed meat. Someone started to play a fiddle in the corner and boots thudded lightly across the plank floor. Familiar sounds that used to lull Rhys into the depths of the dark, unattached, numbness.
Amara sat across from him. The light caught her cheekbones and the hollow of her throat. Her hair shimmered in the glow like a candle smoke, and the gold threads along the bodice of her gown teased him like a hidden treasure peeking through the shoals.
“Drink? Drink? Drink?” William said, still standing and pointing at each of them individually. Though, he didn’t wait for a response before he disappeared.
