Highlander Mine. Juliette Miller
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was there, behind me. I could feel his presence like a tightening grip around my neck. I turned to him, all black eyes and evil intention. He was not an especially handsome man but it was true he had an air of importance, with his well-fed, well-dressed appearance and his smoothed dark blond hair. Beneath the glossy, urbane exterior lurked a vile soul. I was aghast but not surprised when he made a gloating announcement.
“I’ve taken a financial interest in your family’s establishment, Amelia.” The sound of my name, spoken in that dark, ominous voice, caused the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to rise. “In fact, I have just purchased a very decisive controlling share. Which means that you are now my employee. It is therefore my responsibility to ensure that you are suitably engaged, and as useful as you might possibly be.” I flinched back from the coldness he seemed to emit, but his hand stole to a loose curl of my hair, with which he played with two fingers. “I gave you several opportunities to act in your family’s best interest.”
I glared at him, and it was this defiance that challenged him. He was accustomed to fear, and obedience. That he could detect neither in me, I knew, provoked him. And fascinated him. I could see it there in his pitiless eyes: he wanted to break me. Each time I refused him, he upped his game. My determination to avoid him was having the opposite effect, miring me deeper into the control he was determined to gain.
“In other words, my dear Amelia, I now own the majority of this club.” And you along with it, was his unspoken implication.
“Congratulations,” I said. This was the worst news he could have delivered, but I’d be damned to the fiery depths of hell before I let him see any hint of weakness in me. That would be his victory.
“You could easily have relieved your family of their debts without forcing me to play this particular hand. I’m surprised you continue to refuse me. I’ve had to take somewhat excessive measures just to get your...undivided attention.” His gaze was chilling, but his tone was deceptively light. “And you look lovelier tonight than ever. Like a nymph with a siren’s tendencies. Worth the price, I daresay.”
I glared at him, taken aback by his inappropriate flattery. Whatever I looked like, I was entirely innocent. I—and my sister, it had to be said—intended to keep it that way for some time to come. My mother’s sense of propriety, for better or worse, had manifested itself tenfold in my sister; she watched me like a hawk and refused to allow any man to court me, perhaps because the selection of suitors we were exposed to were, more often than not, married and cheating, destitute, drunk or wanted by the law. “There are more important things than money,” I said. “I would rather starve than give myself unwillingly to any man.” Especially you.
This made him smile, and it was a smile that sickened me with fear. “Is that so?” he purred. His eyes were uncannily emotionless.
I willed myself to hold my ground. Fear was not something that troubled me often, but Sebastian Fawkes seemed to bathe me in it. His presence clouded my confidence. Whenever he darkened our doorstep, it was as though doom lurked around every corner, waiting to ooze in and take hold.
“You know how wealthy and powerful I am. You know how much of Edinburgh I own. Yet you refuse to grant me one simple request. My patience has grown thin. I have more important things to do than chase after a stubborn, down-on-her-luck virgin. Yet regrettably, my desire for you consumes me. And so I have taken matters into my own hands. You will be mine. Tonight.”
God help me. Logic was telling me to submit to his dark requests, but all I felt was fury at his insults. “I’m not down on my luck,” I seethed, glancing at my surroundings, which suggested otherwise, a detail that only enraged me further. “And I have no interest or intention of submitting to you, Mr. Fawkes. I’m sure there are countless women who would jump at the chance to bed you. I’m simply not one of them.”
His voice was low, laced with anger. Awful and severe. “I’m afraid I simply will not accept nay for an answer.”
A wash of terror chased up my spine as he eyed his hulking, ever-present bodyguards, considering. My courage was false, but it was better than nothing; I forced a chuckle just to annoy him. “I’d rather bed the devil himself.”
“Since he’s not available tonight,” he replied, his eyes simmering with frightening anticipation, “you’ll have to make do with me.”
“You’re wasting your time, Mr. Fawkes. I’m neither interested nor available. I don’t plan to be here this evening. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed at the tables.”
He laughed softly, the sound jarring for its lack of humor. His hand cuffed my wrist painfully, halting my retreat. “There you go again with your plucky refusals. I could take you now, if I felt inclined to force you,” he informed me callously. “You know that.”
I made a small sound before I could stop myself.
He leaned in close, whispering into my ear. “It would be so much more fun if you would beg for it, Amelia. I could make you plead, you realize. For mercy.”
I could hear the racing drumbeat of my heart. I leaned away from him, having difficulty breathing. “There is nothing you could do or say that would make me beg anything of you.”
His eyes roved to the far corner of the room, where Hamish showed his newest card trick to the barmaid as Cecelia served a drink to a customer. Fawkes’s smile was eerily devoid of emotion. “I believe there is one thing.” The terror infused me, hot poison seeping into my heart. “’Tis foolish of you to put his life in danger, when you could so easily keep him safe.”
Fawkes had been watching me, learning my motivations and the direction of my unwavering loyalties. It was the most effective threat he could make, we both knew this. I fought to keep my desperation at bay. I looked into his fathomless eyes. “Please. Please don’t hurt him.”
His eyes roved my body, painting me with fear and a horrid, overwhelming sense of dread. “I think we can come to an agreement that will ensure his safety. I have grown weary of this cat-and-mouse game you insist on playing. So I’m willing to issue you a very generous offer. Do as I say or I can no longer ensure the boy’s safety. Now or at any point in the future.”
Fawkes leaned closer, pausing before whispering in my ear.
“I will return after nightfall. I suggest you come to terms with the inevitable and be ready and willing in whatever way I require.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from my cheek, causing my skin to erupt in gooseflesh. “I always get what I want, Amelia. From this day forward, you’d do well to remember that.”
I awoke with a start. My fists were clenched into the soft furs, which I’d displaced in my restless nightmare. My skin was clammy with a light sweat.
My awareness returned to me as my eyes adjusted to the darkness and my heartbeat began to slow. I could see Hamish’s sleeping form curled up alongside me. And I remembered: we’d escaped. We were being transported by the kind-eyed, well-dressed Highlands women and their trusty guards.
I forced my fists to unclench, and I gently touched Hamish’s soft hair to reassure myself, taking care not to wake him.
Listening to the crunch of the wooden wheels on the graveled road underneath me, I closed my eyes and pictured starry skies and green hills and widening distances.
It was some time before I could sleep again.
* * *
AT DAWN, I was shaken gently awake by Christie, who told me to dress and to wake Hamish. We would arrive at Kinloch within the hour. By the time we had folded away the bedding and adjusted the seats, the carriage was passing through the guarded gates of the keep.
I felt sluggish and sullen from my broken sleep and disturbing dreams. And weary from the continued separation from my sister. If only she’d come with us. If only I’d been able to convince her of her own vulnerability.
When I looked out the window of the carriage, my resolve returned to me and my fatigue faded. My purpose was clear. I knew exactly what I had to do, and this place and these people