Page 71 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
Helena did not even have it in her to tease him back—she simply walked out of the tower and toward him, speechless. “It’s wonderful. Did you—was it like this before?”
“I mean, I added a bit here and there,” Damien said in a playful tone, tugging at his beard. “But I wanted ye to add what ye liked too.” He gestured beyond the fireplace. “Through there is a bathing chamber, then there’s the wardrobe, and this…” He walked over to an ornately carved door. “This leads to me bedchamber.” He winked. “In case ye ever need it.”
Helena walked over, her heart beating hard in her throat, and gazed into the shadowed room beyond, where embers glimmered in a fireplace. Heat pulsed between her legs as she imagined stepping inside and Damien’s soft laugh as he followed, closed the door, and brushed her hair aside to kiss the back of her neck.
“Let me warm ye, Sassenach.”
Helena pulled in a sharp breath and stepped back. “Thank you. I-I need to bathe.”
“Aye, well, good night, Lady Helena.” He caught her hand and kissed her knuckles. “It would be the best night if ye were to use this door, but I ken, I ken?—”
Helena glared at him and tried to yank her hand back, her heart beating harder in every part of her body. His touch and her heart were making it hard enough without his incessant flirtation.
“Next year.”
Immediately, Helena relaxed and nodded, even as a pang went through her. “Good night.”
“Hel.” He kissed her hand again and then dropped it. “Ye are worth the wait, ye ken?” He smiled as he clasped his hands behind his back and leaned in, and her heart surged in an absolute riot. “We shall have a good life together. I can feel it in me bones.”
Helena could feel her resolve faltering, a delicious weakness that made her want to throw herself at him, and she had to fist her hands in her skirts to stop herself.
Her nails dug into her palms, and she forced a nod and then said, “We just have to wait and see, I suppose.”
A curious smile played on Damien’s lips, and there was a hint of the warrior in his eyes. Too late, Helena realized that her words sounded like a challenge.
“That we shall, sweetheart.”
With that, he stepped into his rooms and shut the door.
Helena nearly sank to the ground, pressing her trembling hands against her stomach as heat and nerves swept over her in relentless waves. She felt almost as undone by that look and his words as his capable hands.
“A bath will help,” she told herself, ignoring how her voice quavered. “Or so I bloody hope.”
CHAPTER 29
One feckin’night since Hel started sleepin’ in the Lady’s suite and I cannae sleep a wink.
Damien stared up at the dark green canopy of his bed, with its barely perceptible pattern of bronze and golden leaves in the gloom of his bedroom. He knew he’d been lying awake for far too long, listening to the wind batting at the window, the rustle of blankets, and the soft pad of Helena’s feet in the adjacent room. If he turned onto his right side, he’d be able to see the bolt of light under the door, flickering to let him know that his wife-to-be was still up at this ungodly hour. With no idea that her husband-to-be was lying there, tortured by the fact.
He’d thought having her closer would ease the tension in his chest, that protectiveness that had taken over him. Instead, it had heightened it. In less than two weeks, they would be wed, and it felt both too far and too fast. They’d received word that Emma and Grant should arrive on the morrow.
Damien had also received word that after an initial delay, his wedding present would arrive on time as well.
It had caused his heart to leap in his chest. He had smiled over the missive, causing Helena, who he’d summoned to his study for lunch and the news about Emma, to make a grab for it. When he’d held it out of reach, teasing her, she’d smiled at him, and he’d been so distracted that she’d almost ruined her own bloody surprise.
Damien put his hands over his face and suppressed a groan. How had this happened? He was going out of his way to get her to smile, figuring out the difficult logistics of her damned wedding presents, and getting restless from hearing her walk around her room.
Sitting up, he let out a sigh and gripped the back of his neck. He’d liked the lass since the first moment she’d stepped up to him, sure. After they’d gotten engaged—which had happened fast and been prudent—Damien expected to grow fond of her. She was sharp and clever, funny and sly, and so ridiculously beautiful in her own way.
He fell back against the headboard, a hand pressing over his heart as it thundered in his chest. But Christ, he had not expected this. Had not expected to care for her so much that it became a constant source of distraction. One that hewanted,too, dammit.
He’d thought that Helena would make a good partner, a sturdy wife in more ways than one, and give him an heir. They’d beenamicable, yet also had fun, and he’d liked that she spoke her mind. He’d looked forward to seducing her, teasing her out of those airs she felt she had to tote around like armor, and God, her kisses were sweet.
Now, though, it went deeper. That interlude in the cave had undone him. He’d relived it a thousand times since then while working his hand over his manhood, seeking impossible relief.
But the need was in his bones, in his blood.
And worse, he now knew that Lachlan and the Vipers knew about Helena. Orrick had been away yesterday, and while Damien trusted the men of Morighe to keep them safe, he also knew his headstrong wife. If she had a mind to go to the village or back to the waterfalls without an escort, she would.
