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“Lass…” his voice rasped like sandpaper. He shook his head. “I canna. I need to focus on the battle. I lead those men tomorrow. Their lives are my responsibility. I canna fail.”

Amber frowned, confused. “What does that have to do with anything? I’m just asking how you feel—”

He crossed the distance between them in three broad strides and loomed over her. Lightning lit up the room and half his face. His eyes burned, devouring her, dark with a mixture of desire and pain and longing.

He took her face in his hands, the touch charging her skin like lighting had struck her.

“If ye want to leave and make clocks, ye should pack yer things and go.”

The words lashed her worse than Jerold Baker’s whip.

“There’s nae future for us,” he said.

Thunder rolled again, deafening her. Or did her ears refused to work so that they wouldn’t hear him?

“I canna be with ye.”

She stopped breathing, heartache suffocating her. But why was he still holding her face in his hands, why was he looking at her like he wanted to kiss her? Why was he torturing her?

A battle was fought behind his eyes, desire and restraint. And then, surprising her, he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was one full of despair and softness. There was no tongue, but their lips melded together. Then he stopped, fell to his knees and hugged her waist. He pressed his forehead to her stomach and stayed there, frozen. She couldn’t move, was afraid to spook him, afraid to lose this strange, unexplainable moment of tenderness.

Rain hit the shutters hard. Lighting blinded Amber, and thunder shook the world.

Owen stood up and looked at her. “The kiss was a goodbye.” He gave her a curt nod. “Godspeed, Amber.”

And then he left, taking her broken heart with him.

Chapter 28

She loved him?

She loved him…

She loved him!

The words drummed in Owen’s ears, louder than the storm thundering outside the great hall. The room was packed with warriors, Owen didn’t remember it ever being so full. The king, his knights, and some of his Highlanders who could fit, were seeking refuge from the downpour. The rest of the army were camped in the tents by the castle walls, provided with as much food the castle cooks could serve.

Owen stared at the bowl of stew in front of him. He stirred it mindlessly with his spoon. He had no appetite whatsoever. The room around him was loud with dozens of voices talking, laughing, singing.

He’d be leading these men tomorrow. But all he could think about was Amber.

Amber who loved him.

Owen had hurried out of his chamber as fast as his feet could carry him.

He’d run away. Run away from happiness. From the woman he loved—the most perfect, beautiful, and strong woman in the world.

Owen reached for the cup of uisge with his head hung between his shoulders.

He’d run away so that he could stay focused and win the battle tomorrow.

Because he’d been an idiot in the past. Infatuated by beautiful women. Led by his horny cock. Taken the easy way.

He’d not taken anything seriously.

Finally, he’d gotten what he wanted. He was leading the men into battle against his clan’s archenemies, the MacDougalls, in a battle that might decide the destiny of Scotland.

A battle where he might die.