Page 15 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
“Well, then, I guess I could be considered aroyalprisoner,” she answered. “Which means I wouldstillhavesomefreedoms.”
Rhys leaned back on his hands and regarded her with a quirk of his lips. “Did ye think I’d have ye locked in the dungeon or something, Lady Amara?”
A blush rose to her cheeks, and she fought to control it. “The thought had certainly crossed me mind.”
He shook his head and leaned back further onto one elbow. “’Twas never me intention… nay matter where yer faither may have chosen to keep me cousin.”
“Then what was?” she asked.
He regarded her for a moment. “A simple trade. Ye for Finn.”
“But since that isnae happenin’, what are ye plannin’ on doin’ with me now?”
His eyes slowly traced over her body, starting from the top of her head, over her face, pausing on her breasts and hips. Amara squirmed as heat rapidly grew from her neck to the tips of her ears.
“I daenae ken yet,” he answered truthfully. “I had nae expected this…outcome.”
“Then me suggestion is the perfect solution,” Amara said with a smile. “I willnae give ye trouble and will remain at Castle O’Donnell, for the time bein’.”
Amara knew he could see right through her request, that she was looking for somewhere to go until she figured out what she would do since she wasn’t going to be able to return home.
He studied her for a long time. Uncomfortable with his steady gaze, she glanced around the campsite.
Her eyes fell on Myles, still sitting watch against the tree. He was looking at her, his eyes glowing from the combination of moon and firelight. He didn’t look happy, and she wondered if he’d been able to hear their conversation even though she and Rhys had spoken quietly.
“Aye, Amara Hall of the Murdoch Clan. Ye will come to O’Donnell Castle, and we will keep the truce.”
She breathed a sigh of relief, but she didn’t thank him. She simply nodded. “I believe I will try and get some sleep now.”
He watched her stand and walk away. Amara felt self-conscious and swore she could actually feel his look on her like a physical touch. Even though it was a cold night, her body suddenly felt a little too warm. She made quick work of getting settled and closed her eyes. A slight smile played across her mouth.
Going to the O’Donnell Castle was not something she’d ever thought would happen, but here she was. And what surprised her the most was that she was actually looking forward to it. This marked a change in her life, a new beginning, and she was going to make the best of it as possible.
7
Rhys woke up the next morning, determined to ignore his attraction to Amara. She was no longer his prisoner.
He’d meant what he’d said about continuing the truce, but she would still need to be watched. She was still a Murdoch, and she could still cause problems for his clan.
He needed to keep his focus on Finn, not the way Amara’s blonde hair wrapped around her so lovingly while she slept. When he woke up, his gaze had immediately sought her out and now he sat there staring at her, cursing himself for doing so, but not able to turn away.
Last night, he’d been entranced by the way the firelight had shimmered in her eyes. How her cheeks had flushed a becoming pink when she told him she wanted to stay at his castle.
“Ye're up early,” William said, walking over to him.
Rhys jerked his gaze away from Amara’s sleeping form and quickly got to his feet.
“Aye. I want to get home, Billy,” he answered. Walking over to the fire, he kicked dirt and grass over the dying coals to smother it. Smoke rose, barely visible in the early morning darkness.
“And the lass?” The man pressed, glancing at Amara. “Are we truly takin’ her with us?”
Rhys nodded sharply. “She may yet prove useful.” He wasn’t ready to tell Billy, or anyone else, about the deal he’d struck with Amara yet. He wasn’t even ready to accept it himself. He’d basically agreed to let her live at O’Donnell Castle as a guest and Rhys knew a lot of his clan would not be happy about giving sanctuary to a Murdoch, especially the laird’s daughter.
But he didn’t feel like he had a choice in the matter. None of this was her fault in any way. She certainly hadn’t killed his father, and she hadn’t been responsible for Finn’s capture. She’d been a pawn in Rhys’s own plan to secure his cousin’s release, but then she was ‘thrown to the wolves’, as she’d said last night, by her own father.
She had nowhere to go. If she went home, Rhys didn’t put it past the older laird to inflict harm her, or even worse. Laird Murdoch had shown no concern that his daughter was being held by his enemy. He had not wanted her back. He didn’t care if Rhys or his clan lay waste or killed Amara.
What kind of man was that?
