Captured by the Highlander (19 page)

Amelia tugged her arm free and adjusted the fabric of her sleeve. “I despise you.”

“It’s your right to think of me however you choose, but I suggest you hear me out first.”

She strode away from him, across the
gallery
toward the window. “Hear you out? What is there to possibly explain?

You are a fraud. One week ago, you were a savage in a kilt, wielding an axe over my bed—the most sought-after enemy of England. This morning you are a gentleman, dressed in silks and ruffles and lace. You negotiated with my father, an English duke, who thought so highly of you and sang your praises to the King.” She turned and faced him. “I
will
never forgive you for this. You have made a fool of me. When I think of the past few nights, and how you seduced me—”

“Seduced you?” He laughed. “You wanted it as much as I did, lass. If I remember correctly, you did mention that you enjoyed it.” His eyes simmered with desire. “Don’t lie to yourself. You need a real man inside you, instead of that polite English fop you think to
call
a gentleman, and do not insult me, or yourself, by trying to deny it.”

She crossed to him and slapped his face. “You may be dressed impeccably. You may even be of noble blood, but clearly, you are no gentleman.”

He stood motionless, barely reacting to the strike. Clearly this ruthless man was made of steel or stone.

She returned to the window and looked out at the lake.

The light sound of his footsteps crossing the room sent sparks of awareness to
all
her nerve endings.

“I am more a gentleman than your betrothed, lass. You just haven’t seen that side of him.”

“Do
all
men have two sides?” she asked, feeling more lost and alone than ever. “Do you
all
have secrets? If so, how is it possible to ever know someone? Or to trust? Or
love
?”

She watched a duck fly low and skim the surface of the water in a smooth landing and fought ardently against the urge to weep and
fall
to this man’s knees and beg for an explanation, so that she could understand what she was feeling. She was frustrated to the point of dizziness. Part of her
still
desired him, but she felt so confused over who he real y was.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder. He stroked the back of her neck with his thumb, and
all
her defenses began to crumble.

“Are you not afraid I
’ll
turn you in to the King?” she asked, retreating back to the war that
still
existed between them, because she was afraid to let herself give in to the passion.

“You won’t do that, lass,” he replied.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you care for me,” he said, and her body grew warm with unease. “I felt it last night when I held you in my arms. A man learns much about a woman during such a moment.”

Something
compelled
her to deny it. “That is not true.”

Yet this morning, when she left him, she’d wanted to cry her eyes out.

He circled around her to block her view of the water and gazed down at her sagely. “And you
call
me
a liar.”

His voice was oddly hushed, and his eyes glimmered with shadows of desire that caused everything inside her to melt.

Amelia lifted her face to his, and for a moment she stood apart, struggling to bury the memory of what had passed between them the night before, but the attempt was futile.

He
pulled
her toward him, her body flush against his, and pressed his mouth to hers. For a shuddering moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist. Arousal
swell
ed within her, and she needed to touch and hold him, to beg him to make everything better, to deliver her from this torment.

Then a sudden, raw hurt reared up inside her and she pressed her hands to his chest.

“Please don’t kiss me like that,” she pleaded. “I may be your captive, but I am not your woman. I do not
want
to love you. So please, just let me go.”

“It doesn’t have to be so difficult,” he gently urged. “Al you need to do is
follow
your impulses.”

“My impulses?” She glanced up at him with fire in her eyes. “What if my impulses are to run you through?”

Duncan slowly backed her up against the
wall
. His mouth found hers again in a second, tender effort to claim and possess. He kissed her deeply, then caught her up in his arms and held her close. The intimacy of it broke her
will
. His tongue
rolled
seductively around hers, and a wild frenzy of heartache and yearning racked her body. She was no match for him, and she hated him for that.

“What
will
you do with me?” she asked,
still
wishing she could push him away but failing in the attempt.

“I plan to keep you, lassie. I
’ll
not let you run from me again.” His voice was soft and husky, heavy with desire.

She could barely think now. “What are you saying? That you
will
never let me go? That you
will
keep me as your prisoner forever?”

He lightly palmed her breast. “Surely you know me better than that. I told you I wasn’t daft. I
’ll
not be letting you go, lass, because you
’ll
be my countess.”

She looked up. “I beg your pardon? You are suggesting that we should marry?”

His expression was darkly sexual. “Aye. I can’t stomach the idea of you returning to your betrothed. He
’ll
never put his hands on you again, not while I live. I mean to take you from him, and have you for myself.”

“So this is about your vengeance?” she asked, needing to understand. “You wish to deprive Richard of his wedding day, as he deprived you of yours? Just to punish him? Is that it?”

“Aye, and I
’ll
take great pleasure in it. I can’t deny it.”

Fighting to stay strong, she
swall
owed hard over the frustration and discontent she was feeling. “So by wedding me, you
will
again be using me as your weapon?”

The corner of his mouth curled up slightly in a predatory grin. “I
’ll
be using you in
all
sorts of other ways, too, lass, and I promise we
’ll
both enjoy it, just as we did last night by the fire.”

Amelia pushed away from him and faced the door. “This is too much, Duncan. You cannot do this to me. You cannot make such a demand, nor can you expect me to forgive you for
all
that has occurred between us leading up to this moment. You abducted me, you bound me with ropes, you threatened my life, and you want to
kill
the man who is
still
, despite everything, my fiancé. You have no right to claim me as your own.”

He scoffed. “You and your
silly
English rules. You
will
be my wife, Amelia, and I do not care what Richard Bennett thinks about it. It
will
not matter for long, at any rate.”

“Because you
still
plan to
kill
him.”

“I
’ll
not rest until I have my justice.”

She shook her head. “You do not have to do that, Duncan.

You could simply let it go.”

“Nay, I cannot.”

She strode toward him. “Yes, you
could
. You refuse to do it only because you refuse to let go of your anger and hatred.”

He crossed the
gallery
and stood in front of the hearth with his back to her. She waited for him to say something.

Anything. To respond to her plea for mercy.

“You want to disarm me, lass. You want to temper my rage.”

“Yes, I do. But do you consider that an undesirable quality—to be at peace, and without anger?”

He paused. She wished she could see his face.

“I cannot answer that.
all
I know is that you move me like no other woman. When I woke this morning and you were gone, and I imagined you rushing into the arms of that swine, I was enraged. I want you, lassie. I want you badly enough that I
’ll
do anything to keep you for myself, and to keep you away from him.”

“You
’ll
do anything?” she said. “Even surrender your vengeance?”

He faced her at last and frowned.

Slowly, she approached him. “I believe that you are capable of compassion, Duncan. I’ve seen it in you. I’ve felt it in your touch. You did not deprive me of my virtue when you had the chance. That man who held me in his arms last night, he was kind and gentle and…” She stopped for a moment and redirected her thoughts. “I could never marry the Butcher.

I cannot be a part of that world. I cannot turn a blind eye to death and murder, nor could I ever grow to care for you if you continued on this path of savagery.”

There was
still
a hint of anger in his expression, but he seemed at least
willing
to listen. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?” he asked. “Are you
telling
me that you
will
not be my wife unless I lay down my weapons?”

She hesitated, uncertain suddenly about what she was
all
uding to, standing here on the brink of something very different from the future she’d imagined for herself. Was she truly negotiating a marriage? Or was she simply
stall
ing for time so that she might escape him again? She had not had adequate time to consider this. He was
still
the Butcher and always would be. That history could never be erased. He would always live under the shadow of the dead. His heart would be forever scarred by the lives he had taken.…

“Would you agree to
allow
the courts to carry out justice and decide upon Richard’s punishment, if he is found guilty?” she asked.

He scoffed in disgust. “You’re
telling
me that you’d be
willing
to sacrifice your body and soul to
me,
a sinner bound for
hell
, in order to save that dirty piece of filth from the blade of my axe?”

God help her …

She nodded.

But did she truly intend to become his wife?

His eyes narrowed. “I
’ll
not lie to you, lass. If I make this pledge, I
will
keep my word as a matter of honor. I
’ll
not
kill
Richard Bennett. But this marriage—it
will
be a real marriage. I
will
have you in my bed, and you
will
give me children.” He strode closer to her. “And I’d need a pledge from you as
well
. I have a responsibility to my clan and those rebels who have
followed
me. I need to ensure their safety and protection. I need to know you
will
not expose them.”

She watched him warily. “You would insist that in return for your vow to spare Richard’s life and
allow
the courts to judge him, that I would keep your secrets?”

“Aye.” He stood with his hands at his sides, staring at her intently.

“What
will
Angus say?” she boldly asked, knowing that the question would unsettle Duncan. “He
will
not approve, so I
will
need you to protect me from him.”

“I would.”

Amelia was having trouble breathing. When she failed to give him an answer, he took hold of her chin and careful y lifted her face to study it. “But
tell
me this, lass. How do I know I can trust you?”

“How do I know I can trust
you
?”

They stared at each other while the light in the room grew dim. The sun had moved behind a cloud.

“I do care for you,” he said at last, and she was surprised by the hint of vulnerability she sensed in his voice. It was not something she had heard before. “I mean to keep you safe, and you
will
be, if you agree to be my wife.”

“I
will
be safe from Richard, you mean.”