Page 6 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
He shook his head. “What I am sayin’ isnae lies lass, it all truth. I ken ye dinnae ken me—”
“Exactly!” Amelie said sharply, “I daenae ken ye, so why should I trust ye? And why do ye care about this so much?”
Something flashed over his face and he clearly made to answer at first then snapped his lips shut. Amelie went back to wiping the table.
“I willnae be another swindler, so again, ye can move off and find another who will be willin’ to play poor orphan girl to the Laird, who I’m sure must be sick and tired of thieves like ye.”
To her disbelief, Damien did not look fazed. “I suspected ye would pull away from the idea. I ken, lass, it is a lot to consider, that ye might be the daughter of a Laird. What do ye want to prove it?”
Now, Amelie felt stuck, and she scrambled for ideas and words. He had given her three logical reasons to believe him, and he knew things no one knew about her, things she had kept secret. What more did he know about her?
“I—I…”
A strange glint of triumph, crossed his face. “Do ye need more time to think about it, lass?”
Did she need to think about it? What was there to think about? There wasn’t the slightest chance that what he said was real, but he looked so decisive. There was not even a hint of wavering in his gaze and she decided to hear what he had to say. Not that she would believe it, but at least she would be able to persuade him away from her.
“Aye,” Amelie said, in relief. “Come back on the morrow. I’ll have a reply for ye then.”
Instead of him getting up and moving away, Damien stood and reached over the counter, placing his knuckles under her chin once again. A soft gasp left her parted lips and his eyes dipped to her plump lips. He notched her head up and his thumb swiped under her bottom lip.
“I’ll see ye then, lass.”
When he left, her body numbly dropped to her seat and she lifted her hand to her chin but did not dare touch her skin. What was this heated reaction he was pulling out from her? Why was her skin pebbled and her heart beating out of rhythm?
She stood in a rush, grasped her coat and waved goodbye to the other barmaid who had just come in, then hurried out into the night with one thought in her head: going home. Only there could she be settled enough to try and figure out what Damien was doing to her.
* * *
Slipping out into the darkened street, Damien wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and tugged the cowl hood down over his head. Finally, after months of searching, prodding and prying details and tidbits about this McDulah lass, his search had led to him Inverness and to the only lass who fitted the description, but he had not expected her to be so utterly stunning.
Amelie had the face of an angel and the from what he had seen, an inner steel of a fighter. He had not expected to feel the rush of heated attraction to her and worse, feel it grow the more she looked at him with defiance.
When she had spat out the word ‘thief’ it had taken everything inside him not to react. If only she knew how close she had come. Only this time he was sure about one thing, he would not need to steal anything. When the Laird saw her and realized that she was his daughter, that sack of silver would be his free and clear.
Yet what about the urge to cup Amelie’s cheek and feel if her skin was as smooth as it looked?
Forget it. Of all the women I am drawn toward, she is one I cannae dare touch!
He walked down to the waterway and lingered at the edge of the pier. The crescent moon was hardly visible behind the thick clouds and the water was a dark surging mass all the way to the misty horizon. He turned away and headed off to the city’s slums where Ben lived and where he was going to stay until Amelie came around and believed him.
The lass was fiery, he liked that about her, but behind her brass demeanor he saw fear. She was not going to allow herself to believe something that sounded fantastical, and he understood why. After living in poverty for so long, the thought of having more than she could ever use was not only daunting, but utterly terrifying.
Amelie had relented and allowed him more time to convince her that she was indeed the Laird’s daughter, and Damien was going to do all he could to convince her to travel with him and Ben to Dolberry, so that she could see for herself.
Rarely had he felt such sudden attraction to a woman, and it bothered him a little. What was so striking about her was that all his being had felt tuned to her, as if he were a spit or iron and she were a loadstone.
The flash of her eyes, the fix of her jaw, the incensed heave of her breast…it’s all arrestin’.
He headed into the slums while planning what to say to Amelie the next day. He knew he had to tamp down on the attraction he felt for her as showing any of it would probably scare her away. She was already cautious and as nervous as a hare was to a fox. If his attraction were shown, she would see him wanting more from her: to carry her to Dolberry and get the two thousand sterlings of silver.
Stopping in his tracks, he turned toward the vague direction of the tavern Amelie worked in.
The lass might yet put up more of a fight—how can I truly convince her and get her to come with us to Dolberry? What will I have to do?
3
Hours before dawn found Amelie curled into a ball on her pallet. Last night had brought a long stint of sleeplessness and now, in the weak morning light, she felt more worn out than ever before.
