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Jamison cut her off. “I wouldna lie just tae force ye tae open the door,” he snapped back. “Or did ye not know that at any point, I coulda simply kicked the door in if I really wanted tae? Did that occur tae ye, now?”

Havilland was pale and drawn, just like Jamison was.

They both looked as if they’d seen better days, the weight of emotions having taken their toll in both their manners and appearances.

Havilland glared at Jamison as if the man was her worst enemy, unwilling to answer his question about kicking the door down.

She didn’t see a need to address it. But she did see the need to address the situation with her sister.

“Amaline would not have done such a thing,” she said, eyeing Beaux, wondering what the man was doing there. “You heard her yesterday. She wanted you to keep Madeline locked up. She would not have released her.”

“She did, my lady,” Beaux said because Jamison was simply standing there, staring at the woman. “She hit Thad de Lohr over the head, stole his keys, and released yer sister. Thad has the bump on his head tae prove it.”

Havilland’s eyes widened and, very quickly, her features washed with distress. “Nay,” she breathed, looking at Jamison as she spoke. “It is not possible. Why… why would she do it? She was terrified of Madeline!”

Jamison shook his head. “Who is tae say why the lass acted foolishly?” he said. “What matters is that she has released Madeline and Tobias has taken her tae the vault. Now she is in the same cell as her sister was.”

That bit of information changed Havilland’s manner drastically. Her jaw hardened and her eyes narrowed. “You will release her,” she hissed. “She does not belong there!”

Jamison was on edge and didn’t take kindly to Havilland’s tone or attitude. He was unbalanced and emotional, a bad combination. “She released a traitor, m’lady,” he said rather formally. “Unless I can find Madeline, Amaline will stand trial for her treachery. Now, where would Madeline go?”

Havilland was outraged beyond reason. Jaw ticking furiously, she tried to push between Jamison and Beaux, more than likely heading to the gatehouse where Amaline was being held, but Jamison grabbed her by the arm to stop her.

The moment he did so, he had a fight on his hands– infuriated and terrified, Havilland brought up a hand to strike him, which he deftly blocked.

He grabbed both of her hands and she still tried to fight him, bringing up a knee to ram him in the torso, but he spun her around and trapped her in his enormous embrace.

Like a cat in a snare, she was caught… and battling every step of the way.

“Stop fighting me,” he growled. “Tell me where Madeline would’ve gone. We must find her.”

“Let me go!” Havilland demanded, still struggling. “I must go to Amaline!”

“Not until ye tell me where Madeline might’ve gone.”

It was a battle of wills, of emotions, and of strength.

Jamison had her on the strength but she was an even match in the other two categories.

Having spent the past several hours in her chamber, weeping until she became sick, Havilland was shattered in so many ways.

She didn’t want Jamison to touch her yet his arms around her undid her.

It was an embrace she would never know again, his powerful body against hers.

Truth was, she couldn’t fight him any longer. Physically, anyway. She didn’t want to hurt him, this man she adored so deeply. She finally hung her head as her struggles died down, trying very hard not to cry.

“I do not know where Madeline would have gone,” she said. “I am sure wherever it is, she escaped through the postern gate. It seems to be her favorite access point and one that is not as carefully guarded as the gatehouse. It would have been easy for her.”

Jamison could feel her relax in his arms, her warmth and softness clutched against him. “But beyond that, ye dunna know?” he asked, his voice considerably less harsh.

She shook her head. “I cannot guess,” she said. “Elinog, the Preece home, is about ten miles to the east. It is possible she may have gone there, but I do not know for certain.”

Jamison was satisfied, certain that she didn’t know any more.

Lifting his head, he nodded at Beaux, who had been watching the entire exchange rather warily.

He could see so much power and passion between the two and it was astonishing that so much emotion could develop in just a few short days.

But it was clear that there was much feeling there.

He felt like he was intruding on an intimate moment as he watched, so when Jamison finally gave him the nod telling him to proceed, he left gladly.

He didn’t want to intrude anymore.

Jamison watched Beaux as the man disappeared down the stairs. He heard him as he shut the door to the keep, the hollow echo reverberating off of the stone walls. But he continued to stand there, holding Havilland tightly. At this point, he had no intention of letting her go.

Ever.

“I am sorry that Amaline must be held, but ye understand that she has released her sister, who was me prisoner,” he said, his voice scratchy and soft. “What she did was wrong, Havi.”

Havilland was quickly growing distraught, not about her sisters as much as over the fact that Jamison was holding her quite closely.

She could feel him wedged up behind her, his big body so incredibly comforting and inviting.

But she couldn’t let herself feel that comfort; it was a charade, a phantom of a love that might have been.

There was too much pain in allowing herself to feel it, even one last time.

“Please let me go,” she whispered.

His response was to tighten up his hold.

“I willna,” he murmured, his lips by the side of her head.

“I will never let ye go. Havilland, I… I love ye. I havena had the courage tae tell ye before now because I dinna know what I was feelin’.

I knew I adored ye– and I told ye so– but now I know that I love ye with all of me heart.

I willna let ye go. Ye’re going tae become me wife and we will return tae Scotland where… .”

“Jamison, stop !” she gasped. The tears were starting to come now.

“We cannot marry. I heard what your friends told you. You have no choice in the matter. You must fulfill your brother’s betrothal and to pretend otherwise is selfish.

You know you cannot marry me yet you pretend as if you still have a choice.

Do you not know what you are doing to me with your refusal to face the truth? You are killing me!”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. He continued to hold her tightly, his mouth next to her head.

Softly, gently, he kissed her hair. Havilland felt him and the tears came in torrents, painful weeping as he was utterly and completely breaking her heart.

She went limp, trying to force him to release her, then stiffening and trying to pull herself out his arms. No matter which way she went, he held her fast. His kisses against her head continued, even when she tried to move her head away from him.

At one point, she leaned her head so far away from him that he had full access to her tender neck, which he took full advantage of. He latched on to her flesh, suckling her, biting her, as she moaned and wept and tried to pull away from him.

“Jamison, please stop,” she begged through her tears. “Please… you are destroying me.”

He wouldn’t release her, his mouth still latched on to her neck. “Tell me ye love me, Havi.”

“Stop… please !”

“Tell me ye love me.”

“I will not!”

“Tell me so I may live on it the rest of me life.”

She burst out in a fresh round of sobs. “I love you,” she whispered, utterly and completely miserable. “I have never loved anything in my life like I love you. And I hate you for asking me. I hate you for forcing me to tell you!”

The only sound after that was her loud weeping, so painful that tears stung Jamison’s eyes.

He couldn’t believe he was going to lose her.

That wasn’t what he wanted; it wasn’t in his plan.

His plan was to marry Havilland and return home to rule his clan, but increasingly, he kept remembering Beaux’s words…

ye canna force the lass tae marry ye no matter how badly ye want tae.

Was it actually possible that Havilland would stand her ground, that she wouldn’t succumb to his wishes?

He couldn’t stomach the thought. He was starting to panic, just a little.

“Ye dunna hate me,” he crooned, kissing any flesh his lips could come into contact with. “But I would like tae know why ye dunna believe me when I say I will marry ye against the wishes of me da. I will happily accept the consequences of me actions. For ye, I would do anything.”

Havilland struggled to gain control of her weeping.

“Because… because marriage is not something to be based on emotion,” she said, sniffling.

“Marriages are to strengthen bonds and gain allies. If you marry me, what will happen? Your father will be disappointed and your clan will hate you. They will hate me. Do you think that is fair to either of us, Jamison? And what of our children? Will they be hated, too?”

She had some valid concerns but he was certain he could convince her otherwise.

“If I marry ye, Clan MacLennan will find another husband for their daughter,” he said.

“I am not the only man in northern Scotland tae marry and they’ll forget about me soon enough.

But the MacKenzie will not and neither will I– what I did tae Connell MacKenzie, I did tae save me brother.

What they did tae Georgie was revenge. Now it is my turn tae seek vengeance and I shall, but knowing I have ye by me side…

knowing I have the most beautiful, most adoring wife a man could have…

that will see me through, Havi. I will be invincible. ”