“But she’s your enemy, Jamie. At least she sees it that way.”
“Exactly. My enemy—and an easy prey to capture.”
Jamie was smiling as he left the hall, but he didn’t fool himself, not really. It would not be easy to break through a lifetime of animosity. But he would win her heart. He knew he would. And where Sheena had had the advantage of knowing just who he was, now he had that same advantage. How tousehis knowledge was another matter.
Chapter 23
William Jameson lived not in a castle or a tower house, but in a simple fortified tower near the river Dee. Atop a small knoll, it was a dismal place indeed, bleak, cold, without the least comfort or cheer.
Upon arriving, Sheena was shown to a small room and locked inside. She made excuses for that—the late hour, a simple precaution to protect her. She would be gone in the morning, so what did it matter?
How naive. How utterly foolish. But it was her own fault, putting her trust in a stranger, and a Highlander at that.
All was made clear the following morning when Jameson paid her a short visit. Without mincing words he told her he would not be taking her to Aberdeen anytime soon, that she would be his guest for however long he chose to have her, that she would have no say in the matter.
Sheena nearly cried. She had escaped a luxurious prison, where she’d had good food, warmth, comfort, and a little freedom, for a dirty, cold, isolated room, very little food, and no freedom at all.
Some of the fear was lessened that night when Jameson came to see her again. By then he was pathetically drunk, for drink had been meant to bolster his courage. Through slurs and leers, he told her he would have her as Jamie had taken his sister. But his attempt at rape was laughable because he was so besotted. Fortunately for her, fear and liquor unmanned him, and he left her, red-faced with shame.
She supposed Jameson was too embarrassed to face her again, and indeed many days passed. She was alone, a prisoner, growing more and more dejected.
“Och, anything is better than this, even Jamie’s amorous pursuit!” she told herself.
When had she started thinking of him as “Jamie”? She wasn’t sure, but she had. And she started remembering. It seemed she could recall every word they had ever said to each other, every moment spent in his presence, his touch—the magic.
This was crazy! She’d thought she’d escaped him! Had he moved permanently into her mind?
“I canna stand it! The four walls are doing this to me, blank walls, no one to talk to! No fire, foul food, and a silent servant to bring it! Another day and I’ll go mad!”
William Jameson paced nervously before his hearth, the only area in the narrow hall that was lighted. It was quite late. He had been sleeping but was awakened with the disturbing news. A rider had been sent ahead to warn of The MacKinnion’s imminent arrival. He would be there any moment.
What had kept him? Jameson had expected James MacKinnion long before. More than a week had passed since he’d taken the girl. He had begun to think Sheena had lied, that MacKinnion was not interested in her after all. But no matter what had kept him, he was coming now. The moment Jameson had craved was at hand. He had to keep control, stop himself from showing what pleasure he got out of twisting the screws on that blond bastard.
Boots sounded on the stairs, many boots, and then Jamie appeared in the doorway across the short hall, six retainers behind him. He waved them back and crossed the hall alone. He was wrapped in his plaid, which added considerable bulk and made him appear twice his size. Coming out of the shadows, he was a formidable sight. A bit of green doublet showed beneath the plaid, but there were no stockings to protect him against the cold. His knees were bare above high boots. A sword swung at his side. Jameson took in every detail, as though memorizing.
But it was Jamie’s approaching face that made William catch his breath. The haggard look, lips drawn in a tight line, cheeks red from the wind. The eyes, reflecting the fire, glowed with a green light. Jameson trembled.
Jamie spoke. “I’ve no’ slept for two days, Jameson. I’m tired, and I’ve wasted two trips to Aberdeen. You tell me what you think you’re doing, keeping the lass here.”
William smiled tightly and gave a little shrug. “She wanted to stay with me.”
“I don’t think so,” Jamie said.
“You’re welcome to have her back, of course,” William quickly assured him in a congenial tone. “In fact, I’d be glad if you’d take her off my hands. I confess I’m bored with her already.”
“Bored?” Jamie ran a hand through his hair. Lord, he was tired. “You’ll be explaining that.”
“What is to explain, my friend? Usually one whore is as good as another, but this one has only bonny looks and nothing else. I was surprised. I thought a man of your temperament would like a more…lively lass.Icertainly do.”
Jamie’s hand shot out and gripped Jameson’s plaid, pulling him so close their faces nearly touched. “Are you saying you bedded Sheena?”
“Now I’d be a fool to admit it, with you ready to thrash me for it.”
“You’ll tell me or I’ll kill you!” Jamie growled.
William tried to move, but he couldn’t break Jamie’s grip. His confidence was evaporating quickly, yet he had to bluff his way through this or be lost.
“You’re no’ being reasonable, MacKinnion. If you had a claim on the lass, you should’ve made it known. I only took what was offered. ’Twas shewho begged me to take her with me. ’Twas she who begged me to let her stay here.”
