Page 79 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
Would Damien chase her down again?
Helena’s heart felt as though it had been pierced by a blade. She did not think so.
A soft warmth wrapped around her, and she raised her gaze to see Damien wrapping a blanket around her.
How did he move so quietly? Her face burned. How long had he known she was out here?
“Two nights, now.” He used the blanket to turn her to face him, trapping her inside of it. Though his face was shrouded in shadow, the lines were stern enough to see, and her stomach fluttered. “At least ye didnae run, even though ye wanted to.”
“I did not,” Helena blurted out, even as her face burned hotter.
“Ye did,” Damien said in a grim tone and let her go, folding his arms. “But ye wouldnae have gotten far, Hel.”
“This is as far as I’ve gone, Damien,” Helena bit back, and her fingers clutched at the blanket. God, but it felt so lovely in the freezing air. “The Morighe Gardens. Truly, how hard was it to find me?”
“Nae hard at all, since I ken where ye are at all times, lass,” Damien rumbled.
Her stomach tightened with anticipation. He stepped forward, and the moon slipped out from behind the clouds, as though eager to drench the Laird in light. His face was a study of fury, heat, and tenderness, the blue of his eye glinting in a way that made her knees go weak.
“I warned ye. And I will warn ye again—dinnae think of runnin’.”
“I… You offered to house Sophia. How could I?”
“Aye, I think that made ye realize that I never had any intention of lettin’ ye go.” He seemed to be restraining himself from reaching for her. “I didnae realize what a poor job I’d done of makin’ meself clear—ye are mine.” He stepped closer. “Forever. I willneverlet ye go.”
“But—but why?” Helena said. “I… I—you’re right. I am so confused. You’ve offered to house Sophia, but it…”
It does not benefit you.
Helena looked away.
Wait. Have I been comparing you to the poor example my father set? I know better than that—I know you better than that.
Her lips parted.
Oh. I’ve been the foolish one.
“Did ye figure it out?” Damien asked in a low voice that sent heat up her spine.
She swallowed and shook her head, her voice shaking as she asked, “What will our life be like?”
He let out a surprised laugh that stirred her hair, and she looked up. He gave her a strange look, as though he had not expected her to ask that question.
“I cannae say for certain, lass. We shall have to find out together.”
Helena drew back. “You must have expectations. You are a laird, after all.”
“I expect I will never tire of convincin’ ye that we are a good match, Hel,” he said. “But beyond that, nay. It’s whatever we want.”
Her chest rose and fell.
“Both of us,” Damien continued and gestured between them. “Nae me or ye alone. But ye do have the advantage, me dragonness. I am verra dedicated to yer smiles.” A rough sigh escaped him. “And I am well aware that I’ll be in trouble once ye figure that out.”
Helena frowned and shook her head. “You jest.”
“Nay.” Damien heaved a sigh. “I wanted this to be a weddin’ present, but ye are bein’ stubborn.”
“I’m being stubborn?” Helena scoffed. “Y-You… What are you doing?”
