Chapter 6
He was goin’ to kiss me. Had Myles not come along, he would have kissed me. And I wouldnae have done a thing to stop him.
Amara mentally berated herself all the way back to camp. She went directly to her blanket and laid down. Her thoughts too twisted to unravel and make sense of the moment.
So easily she had romantic thoughts about the man who had kidnapped her. Sure, she knew that he had the handsome looks of a devil, always had, but he was Laird O’Donnell, her clan’s worst enemy.
“Ye were supposed to be on watch,” Rhys snapped, and Amara peeked open her eyes to see the laird squaring off with Myles.
“I was,” the other man defended.
“Ye were sound asleep, yer jaw slack and ye were snorin’ like a bear in hibernation,” Rhys snarled.
Amara snuggled deeper into the blanket and closed her eyes, grateful for the distraction at Myles’ expense.
“Ye should have stopped her,” Rhys continued.
“Ye should have stopped yerself,” Myles countered, his tone clearly saying he was disgusted. Or maybe disappointed, Amara wasn’t sure which.
“Explain yerself.”
“Ye think I dinnae see ye two?” Myles hissed. Amanda stiffened and clutched the blanket to her throat. “Ye were about to kiss the lass.” His tone was accusatory. “If I hadnae come along."
“’Tis none of yer business,” Rhys snapped. Although she couldn’t see the men, her back tingled as if Rhys had turned to look at her. She wanted to peek, to see if he was, but remained still, with her eyes closed.
“She’s Murdoch’s daughter.”
“I ken very well who she is,” Rhys growled. “Best ye remember who ye are and that ye're talkin’ to yer laird.”
Silence spread across the campsite. Amara imagined Myles stiffening as he realized he may have taken things too far. One didn’t chastise the laird, no matter the reason.
The sound of footsteps retreating reached her next and Amara figured Myles had left to take up his post again. She waited a good while before turning on her other side and sneaking a look between lowered lids. Rhys sat by the fire stirring the coals, his back to her.
His shoulders were stiff, as if he had the weight of life on them.
She watched him for a long while, remembering again how he’d been about to kiss her.
Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Amara wished they could have had that kiss.
She wanted to know if his lips were soft or firm, if they were warm or cool.
She’d never been kissed before, so she didn’t know what to expect, but it was she did know that she definitely wanted.
He willnae tell me what Faither said because he wants to save me feelings?
The idea of an O’Donnell, much less the laird, wanting to protect her feelings was so ludicrous that she mentally shook her head at the thought.
But then, she couldn’t think what other reason there could have been.
He should have delighted in hurting her more, as his enemy, but he didn’t make the move.
The man is confusing, Amara thought with irritation. He was a contradiction to the warrior she’d seen, the man whose eyes had been hard and watchful, his body tense and ready to face any danger. The man who had kidnapped her, thrown her over his shoulder and put her on his horse.
Amara watched him stir the coals, his plaid stretching across his broad shoulders as he moved. The slight moonlight barely broke through the canopy of trees, it’s silvery light not quite reaching Rhys’s head.
What am I goin’ to do now? Where will I go? I cannae go home, not after Faither rejected me.
What would I be goin’ home to? A faither who’d rather see his daughter in enemy hands than in the safety of me own home? The comfort of me own clan?
Amara squeezed her eyes shut as her situation plagued her thoughts.
She couldn’t return to Murdoch Castle. She wasn’t wanted there.
That was painfully obvious with her father’s rejection.
She wondered briefly what would happen if she did return, if her father would be furious, or resigned, or worse, disappointed.
She had no way of knowing. Her father was nothing like the man he used to be before her mother died. It had been six long years and the distance between father and daughter only continued to grow. Time had not made anything better. More time likely wouldn’t either.
Nay, me life is nay longer with me people. But where, then, is it?
Amara opened her eyes and looked at Rhys again. He hadn’t moved from his position, just sat there slowly stirring the coals. Every now and then, he grabbed a branch and put it over the flames to keep the fire going.
She sat up, tugging the blanket around her, then walked over to him. He didn’t look up when she stepped up next to him.
“I’m in nay mood to argue, lass,” he said wearily.
“I daenae want to argue,” she responded softly.
He glanced up at her and studied her face for a long moment. With a nod, he flung out a hand, indicating she could sit next to him if she wanted.
Amara hesitated only briefly, then adjusted the blanket so that she could sit on it.
They sat there in the quiet, broken only by the crack and snap of the fire.
Myles sat against a tree trunk, awake this time, but he looked over at them, a scowl on his face.
William was asleep in his bedroll, unaware of the drama that had gone on this night.
“I ken ye daenae wish to tell me me faither’s words,” Amara said softly, keeping her voice low in the hopes that Myles wouldn’t hear their conversation. He stiffened but didn’t say anything. “Even though I have a right to ken, but I willnae press the matter,” she couldn’t help adding.
He opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “That is nae what I wanted to talk to ye about. Nae now anyway.”
Rhys relaxed slightly but his shoulders were still a bit tense as he waited for her to continue.
“I’ve come to realize that there is nay home for me at Murdoch Castle anymore, and perhaps that is also what ye realized yerself after speaking with me faither.” Amara nearly winced at the sadness tinting her words.
“’Tis still yer home,” Rhys said, turning to look at her with raised eyebrows.
“Aye, but I’m nae welcomed there anymore.” There was no self-pity in her voice, just cold acceptance.
“Yer clan —”
“Aye, me clan would welcome me. If me faither allowed it,” she added with a frown.
“He dinnae used to be so cold. We used to be very close. Me maither used to tease us about it because he dinnae treat me like a girl. He treated me like a son at times, takin’ me fishin’ and teachin’ me sword play and fightin’.
Whenever he wasn’t busy, I was at his side. ”
Amara swallowed past the lump in her throat that rose at the fond memories. “That man,” she said, then shook her head. “That man disappeared and I daenae think he will return.”
Rhys set the stick he’d been using to absently stir the coals aside and turned slightly to face her. “What are ye tryin’ to say, lass?”
Amara took a deep breath. Now that she’d made the decision, she wasn’t sure how to approach him with it. The fear of Rhys rejecting her too made her veins stiff with ice cold fear, but she had to know before they went any further.
“I willnae try to escape again,” she finally said. Rhys just stared at her, waiting for her to continue. “I will willingly go with ye, Laird O’Donnell.”
His expression didn’t change, but he turned even more so that they were completely facing each other. “In exchange for what?”
Amara blinked at him, then blinked again. “What do ye mean?”
“What do ye want in exchange for yer cooperation — for nae tryin’ to escape, and for comin’ to me castle without any more fuss?” Rhys turned to face her with a boyish grin playing at his features, though he still somehow remained stoic. “This is how these things go, Lady Amara. We negotiate.”
Amara didn’t know how to respond. She’d wasn’t really sure what she’d expected his reaction would be, but it was most certainly not this. She took a moment before responding.
“Just let me live and nae be treated as a prisoner,” she finally said.
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze briefly dropping to her mouth before meeting her eyes again.
Amara felt his look as if he’d actually touched her, as if his lips had actually pressed against hers.
She bit her bottom lip nervously and his gaze dropped again.
Orange and red shimmered in his dark eyes, cast there by the firelight.
“Then how do ye wish to be treated?” His voice was thick and a bit gruff.
Amara shivered as his deep voice trailed a path across her nerves, sending quivers of awareness throughout her body. She had the feeling his question had multiple meanings, but she was too inexperienced to understand them.
“As a… guest, I suppose,” she said, surprised at how husky her voice sounded.
“Ye are a Murdoch,” he said as if she didn’t know which clan she belonged to.
“Aye, and we are still under the terms of the truce, nay matter how tenuous the terms may be,” Amara reminded him.
“Those terms were broken when yer faither took Finn as prisoner.”
“And when ye kidnapped me?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Aye, then as well.”
“Well, then, I guess I could be considered a royal prisoner,” she answered. “Which means I would still have some freedoms.”
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.