Page 40 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
Helena trembled all over. “Ridiculous.”
The air grew more tense.
“Is it?” His jaw flexed again. “Ye ran away. Is that nonsense in yer head again? At least do me the courtesy of sayin’ that ye’ll leave me at the altar, woman.”
Helena slammed her hands on the table and stood up. “I have no plans to leave you at the bloody altar, Damien MacCabe, and I would like you to stop with these foolish accusations, when I’ve done nothin’.”
His good eye glinted. “Baird.”
“What?”
“Me last name is Baird, nae MacCabe. MacCabe is me clan, me title. Ye should learn that if we are to be wed.”
Helena fell back in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing up her glasses. “Right. I forgot that’s how it works in the north. Forgive me.” She rubbed her forehead. “Although, I do not seek forgiveness for whatdream Helenadid. Take it up with her.”
“Aye, she was naughty.”
Helena sucked in a breath and stared at him, glad she was sitting again. Then, she glanced around. Damien did not seem seductive, but more tense, almost furious. Again, she had the sense of a great hawk—no, a lion, waiting to pounce.
“I do not know what you want from me, Sir,” she said after a pause. “Perhaps we might take a break from each other. We were thrown together and have spent many, many, long days traveling—too many.”
“I kenned that was it,” Damien said and cursed, shoving back his chair. “If ye wish to be rid of me,Sassenach, simply ask.”
“I wish to be rid of your bad temper, yes,” Helena snapped. “It is not my fault that you did not get enough sleep.”
She gasped as her chair was wrenched around and Damien placed both hands on the armrests.
“Actually, Lena,” he said in a low voice. “It verra much feckin’ is.” Then, he stood straight. “Later, I want ye to go to me maither and tell her why ye were up so late, sobbin’ yer bloody heart out.”
Helena’s lips parted, and she went rigid, staring after her husband-to-be as he strode away, his shoulders tense, his hand gripping the back of his neck.
At the threshold, he paused and half-glanced back. “I ken that ye willnae tell me. But she has a kind heart and a listenin’ ear.”
“I-I was tired from the journey,” Helena got out, even as her chest and eyes burned.
Damien had heard her weeping last night. So, he’d come to her room… Her chest constricted. Was it to try and seduce her further?
“Och, Helena,” he said and turned to face her. “Dinnae lie.” He paused. “And the worst is that ye locked the damn door. Ye dinnae trust me.” His face twisted. “Nay better than I should be, eh, a bloody Scot?”
“And yet you proved me right,” Helena shot back, standing up. “Also, perhaps I-I did so for another reason.”
“Do tell,” he drawled.
“No,” she said. “You do not get to know that.”
Damien huffed and took a step forward. “As I thought.”
“Well, why did you come to my room, Damien?” Helena asked. “Tell me that, and I shall tell you?—”
Further words were lost as Damien gave her a look that made her wonder at the Helena of several months ago who’d asked him for a kiss.
He was a Highland warrior. She thought he could see her every weak spot, know how to get around her defenses—and for a moment, she wanted him to. Wanted him to storm down the length of the room, grab her, and?—
“Oye, Milaird,” called a merry voice, breaking the spell, and Helena fell with a gasp into her chair.
Orrick strolled in. “I’ve got that report from our friends. D’ye…” He fell silent and glanced between Helena and Damien, then tsked loudly. “I’ll come back.”
“Nay, let’s go,” Damien said and spun on his heel, storming out in the other direction.
