Page 70 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
Rhys leaned into the table. “It’ll get louder. Are ye well?”
“Aye, this isnae me first time in a tavern. Nor is it me first pint.”
Myles eyed her appreciatively, clearly impressed, and Rhys couldn’t help but feel the same.
William came back quickly with a tray of whisky knockers and an armful of pints. “Look alive!”
“Billy! For the love of all that is holy!” Rhys said, his voice instantly taking on a scolding tone which only made Myles giggle like a schoolgirl.
“Pay up, darlin’!” he shouted gleefully, as William set down the tray and the pints. “Called it! Sour as a lime!”
Rhys rolled his eyes as his men exchanged money.I was the bet.
“Now,” William started, “Lady Amara, have ye had a whisky knocker before?”
“I have nae,” she said, and a delicious blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks.
“Ye take it quickly, and then ye follow it with the ale… slowly,” William explained.
“The goal is to nae make a face, lass,” Myles said playfully, and they all watched as she reached for her own shot glass.
Rhys’s stomach flipped as her hand wrapped around the pint of ale and slid it toward her, the condensation dripping onto her delicate fingers almost made him flip the table between them.
“Do I take it all by meself me first time, or do ye join me?” she asked, and Rhys’s gaze lingered on her lips.
“Ye’ll nae be alone,” Rhys said plainly, licking his.
“On three,” Myles explained and lifted his whisky. The others joined him, but Rhys’s eyes were on Amara. He wouldn’t miss this experience for all of the world.
“ONE! TWO! THREE! GO!”
She watched as William and Myles threw their whisky back and slammed their glasses down, but Rhys reached out across the table to clink his against hers. “Ready?”
“Oi! Come on, now! We’ve said three and done ours!” William shamed them both, but Rhys wouldn’t hear it. He didn’t move until Amara nodded.
“Ready,” she said steadily.
“One, two —”
“Three!” she said, and threw the glass back before slamming it onto the table.
She wasn’t as quick as Rhys had been. The warm liquid had already snaked its way down to his stomach as she slammed her glass down. He was watching her. They all were. But alas, Rhys was watching her for a very different reason.
Her eyes met his, and she grinned, and Rhys felt his jaw slacken.
Is that a grin? Did she really just grin!
This woman just grinned after her first shot of whisky with Stone. Cold. Devilish. Satisfaction. And as William and Myles both whooped, clapped, and hollered, all Rhys wanted to do was reach across the table, grab her by the top of her bodice, and crash his lips into hers. He wanted to taste that look she had in her eyes and that grin on her mouth.
“Yer cheeks are flushed, lass,” he said, finally, leaning in so he could be heard under the volume of the other two next to them.
She looked up at him over the rim of her ale cup. “It’s the… ale.”
His voice dropped. “Nae. It’s me.”
Her lips parted. Just slightly.
He didn’t look away until he noticed William and Myles’s absence. They had both retreated back to the bar, and William gave him a thumbs up which either signaled that they were getting another round, or they were leaving them alone.
