Page 74 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
And the way he’d kissed her like he didn’t care if the roof collapsed around them.
His daughter saw it all. Even if she hadn’t seen anything.
But it was more than that. She understood it.
Rhys leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Daisy’s temple.
“I love ye, wee menace,” he murmured.
Then he stood, crossed the room without a sound, and closed the door gently behind him.
But her words followed him, echoing softly in the hall.
“Have ye listened to yer heart at all lately?”
The corridor to his study was humming.
Drunken laughter filled the shadows between torchlight. Muffled, but clear enough to make Rhys pinch the bridge of his nose as he reached the final turn.
Of course.
He didn’t even need to open the door to know that Myles stood just steps on the other side. And where Myles was at this hour, William was either cleaning up after him — or pouring more into his cup.
Rhys pushed the door open.
The scent hit first. Ale. Sweat. A bit of savories that one of them — or both — must’ve swiped from the kitchens on their way up. And pipe smoke.
William sat in Rhys’s armchair like it had been gifted to him by God himself, one boot kicked over the side, smoke curling from a long-stemmed pipe.
Myles was half-twisted on the floor by the hearth, legs spread wide, arms splayed, grinning up at the ceiling like it held secrets only he could hear.
“Ah!” Myles pointed lazily, half-missing Rhys by a good foot. “The Laird returns!”
Rhys closed the door behind him with a firmclick. “Ye're still alive, I see.”
“Regretfully,” William muttered through his pipe, not looking up.
Myles sat up with a wobbly jerk. “Oi, be honest, we did grand tonight. I only insultedtwoladies, and Billy only tried to marry one.”
“William.And she asked me first,” He mumbled.
“Ye two work fast considerin’ we weren’t there but an hour.”
“Och, that was before our first round, Rhys!”
Rhys folded his arms, leaning against the heavy oak table. “And so ye thought it best to bring the celebration back tomestudy?”
William finally looked up. “Where else were we to go? Myles’s room smells like sheep arse, and the great hall’s too quiet.Besides,” he gestured with his pipe, “we figured ye’d be back…Eventually.”
Rhys lifted a brow.
Myles smirked. “How was yer walk, then? Peaceful? Romantic? Filled with stolen glances and heartfelt sighs?”
“Ye’re full of shite.”
Both men chuckled. William spoke first. “He’s red in the face. That’s an aye if I’ve ever seen one, lad.”
Rhys ignored them both, moving toward the decanter of whisky on the far shelf.
