Page 12 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

It only took a few more seconds, the anticipation building heavily, before he couldn’t hold back any longer. He crossed the room in long strides. The only thing he could think about was how irresistible she looked and how badly he wanted to touch her.

His hands roughly landed on her shoulders. When his grip tightened, his touch burning through the thin fabric, she shivered. Though the fear was still there, her pupils seemed to dilate.

God, she is so soft.

Slowly, with a gentleness that he did not know he possessed, he started pushing the straps down her arms. Gooseflesh rose in the wake of his fingertips. She let out a small, involuntary sound; something between a gasp and a sigh.

“I’ll need guidance," Margo said quietly, the words breaking the spell as she began to tremble harder. “I do not know how to do this.”

His hands paused, the pressure lessening on her smooth skin. He realized with startling clarity that just a few short days ago she had been sleeping safely in her bed in a home she knew well. Now, she was standing here barely dressed in the bedchamber of a man she never knew or wanted.

We have both been pushed here.

It was the fault of debts and duty, of contracts and desperation. The men that surrounded Margo bargained around her life. And he was one of them. Like everyone else, he was also pushing, eager to dictate how she would live.

That is nae the kind of man I want to be.

Cameron stepped back, dropping his hands away from her shoulders. His gaze swept the room, landing on the robe that Tilly must have found. He grabbed it, then shoved it on her, softly guiding her arms into the sleeves.

“We have weeks ahead of us,” he said, tying the garment around her waist.

Margo stared at him, fear giving way to shock. Those seemed to be the only two emotions he had seen from her. Part of him cursed the fact that he was the reason for it.

Though it pained him to do so, he stepped away from her. Not allowing his eyes to drift away from her face, he said, “I will sleep in the adjoining chamber tonight.” He turned away and made for the door with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He paused at the threshold; without turning to look at her, he quietly said, “Rest well, Lady MacLeod.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Do ye ken what ye’d like to do with yer day, Lady Margo?” Tilly asked as she fastened Margo into a borrowed gown.

“I was thinking I might like to explore the castle a bit,” Margo said, adjusting the skirt. It was a bit too big, borrowed from another lady of the clan. “A castle is so much different than a manor.”

“Is that so?” Tilly asked. She stepped back, putting her hands on her hips and looking at Margo in the mirror. “Then I will stay nearby to ensure ye daenae get lost.”

“I do appreciate that,” Margo said, smiling at her genuinely. “I was quite worried I might.”

“Nae with me around, me Lady!” Tilly said, practically skipping to the door. “But ye willnae even ken I am there unless ye call for me.”

Margo stepped around her maid and into the corridor. She had broken her fast in the chambers, though not by her own request. It had been at Cameron’s insistence.

She slowly started to shake off the strange feelings from the night before; the way he’d been so gentle with her despite how rough she knew his manners to be. The same man that had come close and shoved her shift down had softly dressed her and stepped away when she had asked for guidance.

I do not know what to make of him.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she had somehow wandered into an empty corridor. A breeze blew in through the open windows, and it was so incredibly quiet. Margo let out a deep breath as she walked over to the window sill, leaning on it and looking out over the land.

There were guards in the courtyard, watching as a carriage left the castle walls/gates. Her brow furrowed; what was happening? Before she could lay eyes on anyone riding alongside it, there was a soft mewling sound that caught her attention.

“What…” she murmured, leaning forward and scanning the yard.

The sound came around a second time, high-pitched and hungry. This time, she was able to pinpoint it. In the bush beneath the window, she caught sight of something small and wriggling.

“Tilly,” she said, whipping her head around to find her maid. “How do I get outside from here?”

“This way!” Tilly said, waving her hand and taking off down the corridor.

She must have heard the urgency in Margo’s voice because she was practically running. It took them no time to step out into the warm air. When they approached the window, the noise had grown in volume.

“It’s kittens,” Margo muttered under her breath. She lowered herself onto her hands and knees, and slowly crept toward the wailing creatures.