Chapter 18 — You Don’t Own Me
They left the inn shortly after sunrise.
The storm had washed the countryside clean, and the road followed the coast through low hills and scattered villages. Alexander had doubled the watch after the pirate attack, but nothing unusual appeared.
Amara rode beside him.
Neither mentioned the kisses.
This arrangement lasted nearly an hour.
Then Alexander ruined it.
“You should stay close to the escort today.”
Amara looked at him. “I am close.”
“I mean don't ride ahead alone.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“And when we reach the harbor, you remain with me until we know who we're dealing with.”
Her expression changed.
Alexander noticed too late.
“Remain with you?”
“For safety.”
“You could have said that.”
“I just did.”
“No. You told me what I would do.”
Alexander sighed. “Amara, not everything needs to become an argument.”
“Then stop giving me reasons to argue.”
She urged her horse forward.
Alexander followed, already knowing the conversation was not finished.
They stopped near midday beside a river.
The escort watered the horses while several men checked the road ahead. Amara walked away from the group and stood beneath a tree.
Alexander gave her several minutes before joining her.
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“Then why ask?”
He leaned against the tree.
“I am trying to protect you.”
“I know.”
That surprised him.
Amara turned toward him.
“But you still don't understand something.”
“What?”
She took a moment before answering.
“When Rourke's men took me, they tied my hands. On the ship they locked doors. At the sale, men looked at me and decided what I was worth. Then someone paid money and was told I belonged to him.”
Alexander's expression hardened.
Amara continued quietly.
“I survived all of that by remembering one thing: they could control where I slept, where I walked, even whether I saw daylight. But they could never make me believe I belonged to them.”
“You don't.”
“I know.”
“No, Amara. I mean it. You don't belong to my father, Harris, this estate, or anyone else.”
She studied his face.
“Then don't speak to me as though I belong to you.”
The words struck him.
“I never thought that.”
“Sometimes you act as if you do.”
Alexander started to answer, then stopped.
He thought about the times he had ordered her to remain somewhere, to return, to wait. His intentions had been different from Rourke's, but intentions did not erase what those words meant to her.
“You're right.”
Amara blinked.
She had prepared for a fight.
“That was surprisingly easy.”
“It wasn't.”
Alexander looked toward the river.
“I still think some of your decisions are reckless.”
“Many of yours are boring.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It is to me.”
He almost smiled, but Amara remained serious.
“I need you to understand, Alexander. I will never belong to another human being. Not legally. Not because somebody pays money. Not because a man protects me. Not even because I love someone.”
The final words hung between them.
Alexander looked at her.
Amara realized what she had said but did not take it back.
“If I ever choose a man,” she continued, “I will stand beside him. Never beneath him. If he cannot accept that, then I would rather have nobody.”
Alexander was silent.
Then he said, “That sounds exhausting.”
Amara stared at him.
A smile finally appeared on his face.
She hit his arm.
“I am serious.”
“So am I. The unfortunate man will need extraordinary patience.”
“He will.”
“And probably a very fast horse.”
“Definitely.”
They both laughed, and the tension eased.
But Alexander had heard the important part.
If I ever choose a man.
Choose.
That was the word that mattered.
Later that afternoon they reached a small military checkpoint.
Alexander spoke with the officer in command while Amara waited nearby. The man recognized Alexander's rank immediately and offered additional soldiers for the final part of the journey.
Alexander almost accepted.
Then he looked toward Amara.
She was watching him.
He walked over.
“The commander can give us four more men. It would make the journey safer. What do you think?”
Amara's expression changed.
Not because of the soldiers.
Because he had asked.
“I think we should take them.”
Alexander nodded. “So do I.”
“That was almost civilized.”
“Don't become accustomed to it.”
She smiled.
It was a small moment, but both understood its meaning.
They reached their next lodging before dark.
After dinner, Alexander received documents from a messenger who had ridden from the harbor.
One letter contained information about the search.
Another concerned Amara's legal status.
Alexander read that one twice.
Then he found her outside.
She was sitting on a low stone wall watching the sunset.
“I have news.”
Amara stood immediately.
“My family?”
“Not yet.”
He handed her the document.
She read slowly.
“What does this mean?”
“It means the circumstances of your sale are being challenged. There is evidence you and Lela were kidnapped and transported illegally.”
Amara looked up.
“I told you that weeks ago.”
“I believed you weeks ago.”
“Then why do I need a paper?”
Alexander had no good answer.
Amara looked at the document again.
“So men kidnapped me illegally, sold me illegally, and now other men must officially decide that I should never have been sold?”
“When you put it that way—”
“How else should I put it?”
Alexander sat beside her.
“You shouldn't need the paper.”
“No.”
“But until the law catches up with what you already know, the paper can protect you.”
Amara folded it carefully.
“I hate that.”
“So do I.”
She looked at him.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation.
The following morning Alexander made a decision.
He found Harris among the men preparing the horses.
“I want Amara's purchase documents.”
Harris looked surprised. “Why?”
“Because they are going to be destroyed.”
“Captain, those records belong to your father.”
“Then send him the cost.”
Harris lowered his voice. “You cannot simply release valuable property.”
Alexander's expression changed.
“Do not call her property again.”
Harris stepped back.
Alexander continued calmly. “Amara and Lela were kidnapped. Any transaction based on that crime is meaningless to me.”
“There may be financial consequences.”
“I'll pay them.”
“Your father may object.”
“Then he can object to me.”
Amara had approached without Alexander noticing.
She heard the last sentence.
Harris left.
Alexander turned and saw her.
“How much?” she asked.
“What?”
“How much did they pay for us?”
“That doesn't matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Alexander hesitated, then told her.
Amara absorbed the number.
“I will repay it.”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Alexander immediately corrected himself.
“I mean you don't owe us anything.”
“Better.”
He smiled.
Amara stepped closer.
“Why are you doing this?”
Alexander knew the answer.
He simply was not certain he wanted to say it.
Because somewhere between her arrival and the pirate attack, his concern had become something else.
Because he had begun imagining mornings with her arguments in them.
Because the idea of returning to the quiet life he had lived before Amara felt strangely empty.
Because he loved her.
He was nearly certain of that now.
And that was precisely why he could not use her dependence on him to keep her near.
“You told me yesterday that nobody owns you,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I agree.”
“That's all?”
“No.”
Alexander looked directly at her.
“If you stay near me, I want it to be because you choose to. Not because a document says you must. Not because you're frightened. Not because you need my protection.”
Amara's heart beat faster.
“And if I choose to leave?”
He took a breath.
“Then I help you leave.”
The answer hurt him.
She could see that.
“Even if I go home?”
“Yes.”
“Across the ocean?”
“Yes.”
“And never come back?”
Alexander was silent for a moment.
Then he nodded.
“Yes.”
Amara looked away because suddenly she could not look at him.
For weeks, men had attempted to possess her.
Rourke had possessed the keys to her door.
A broker had possessed papers claiming authority over her.
A buyer had possessed a receipt.
Alexander was the first man since her kidnapping who had the power to hold on to her and was deliberately choosing not to use it.
She finally understood what he was offering.
Not protection.
Not ownership.
Freedom.
Amara stepped closer and kissed his cheek.
Alexander looked surprised.
“What was that?”
“Not a mistake.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
She began walking toward the horses.
“Amara.”
She turned.
“I still want you to stay close to the escort.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Alexander corrected himself.
“Would you please stay close to the escort?”
Amara considered.
“Yes.”
He smiled.
She walked away.
Alexander watched her go with the uncomfortable knowledge that he was helping the woman he loved become free enough to leave him.
It was the opposite of everything he wanted.
And precisely what love required.