Page 31 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
While the old man went off, Damien had the cart hooked up to the horse then went back inside to find Amelie. She was gone from the front cavern, so he ducked into the other section and saw her packing up.
“Mornin’,” he said quietly. “Thank ye for last night.”
She looked over her shoulder with a faint smile. “Yer welcome and thank ye for assurin’ me that I willnae have anythin’ to worry about from Miss Binney.”
Moving to her, Damien embraced her from behind, smiling at her soft exclamation. “I like sleepin’ with ye,” he kissed her neck and loved the tiny shiver she gave when his lips met her skin. “Ye calm me mind.”
Deliberately stroking a hand down her side, he turned away. By the time he got back outside, Ben was ambling back to the cart just as Amelie was coming out. He helped both into the bed of the cart and then mounted the horse, and they moved off.
While chatting idly with Ben, Damien kept his eyes ahead, and thought hard on what he was doing with Amelie. He felt that he was walking into a dead-end or even worse, walking himself over a cliff.
His emotions for Amelie were not sensible for him—but then, when had emotions ever been sensible—as it was inevitable that when he delivered her to Dolberry and her father claimed her, the money was going to eventually be spent off and then he was going back to his old life, stealing from the rich.
Yet, he wanted her. He wantedallof her. He wanted to know her, be with her, to bed her…to love her, but was that possible for a damaged man like himself?
Then again, she was the Laird’s daughter, he was sure about that. She had the life of wealth ahead of her, which meant marrying well. He was hardly the sort to marryanyonemuch less the heir of a lairdship.
Women from whorehouses were his sort, women he could lay with and leave were fit for vagabonds like him. Not Amelie—not the decent, upstanding, virtuous woman she was. Perhaps he should have taken Morgana up on her offer and stopped trying to fool himself that somehow, he could be with Amelie.
It was after midday when they drove into a small village, perched on the brink of a large pond—now frozen— with a few houses and small farms. Damien found a lady who made a thick lamb stew for them and warm flaky bread but there was no stable or inn to stay in.
“I suppose we’ll have to find a place in the woods,” he mentioned as they finished their meals.
After an hour or so of searching, they found a vale over the lake that had enough tree-cover to shield them from snowfall, and with a bright fire buffeting the cold, they settled in for the night. During the night, while Damien kept watch, his eyes kept skimming over Amelie.
Her face was so peaceful when she slept, so innocent and virtuous, and she held herself so well, that a part of him envied her. She had a hard life, but while she had risen over it, he had sunk to the lowest of the low.
Perhaps that was why he felt a bit unworthy of even the idea that he would have a flicker of a chance with her.
If I only have this chance, tis best for me to take it.
Daringly, he stood and went over to her; he had told her the truth when he said that he loved sleeping with her, so he laid near behind her and wrapped his arm around her. When she did not react, he sighed in relief and pulled her closer.
This might be all I can get—I’ll take it.
* * *
Jolting awake when an arm was slipped around her waist, Amelie, who had been sleeping, nearly scrambled away, but then she felt Damien’s familiar form and river water smell. She kept silent and soon after realizing that he was not aware she was awake, allowed herself to stay.
I guess he does like sleepin’ with me.
When he drew her closer to him, Amelie loved how she fitted perfectly against him, as if a missing piece to her life she never knew was gone had presented itself.
Damien was slowly opening up to her, but not fully, and she suspected that he did not want Ben to know of their strange relationship because, well, she didn’t know why that was. Yet she did know one thing, she loved being held by him.
Amelie allowed herself to drift away in his arms, but when she woke at dawn, Damien was gone. Ben was still asleep, and Amelie had to swallow her disappointment knowing that Damien had left. She sat up shivering and moved to stoke the fire awake, just before Damien came back to the clearing with a dead rabbit in his hand.
She bit back her emotion. He had not left because he was hiding her from Ben—although that had to still be a factor—but more so because of breakfast.
Amelie’s brows shot up. “Ye can hunt?”
“Small game, aye,” he said while going to a spot a bit far off to prepare it. He crouched and tugged a knife from his boot. “I cannae take down wild boars or deer but birds, fish and rabbits I can do. T’was a necessity back in those years when I had to scramble and figure out how to survive.”
Curious, Amelie watched as he skinned the animal, removed its head and entrails, and got it on a spit over the fire. “Did ye make any mistakes while doin’ so?”
After laughing at himself, Damien told her about the time he had almost chopped off a finger, another time how he had vomited after slitting a fish’s gut, and one instance that while tracking pheasants, a wild boar had scared him so hard that he had jumped into a tree and stayed there for two days until the animal had gone.
“Two days?” she exclaimed.
