Page 96 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
At that moment, Damien realized that he’d been such a fool—but so had she.
“Helena,” he said on a rough exhale. “I love ye.” He tightened his grip and stared down at her. “I love ye more than anythin’ on this goddamn earth.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips over her brow. “I would have sold me soul to get ye back—ye ken that.”
Helena let out a choked sob but did not seem able to speak, only gazing up at him and trying to form words.
“I should have told ye the moment we met,” he added. “But ye made me lose me bearings for a while, sweetheart. Can ye blame me if I only now got ‘em back and they all point to ye?”
“Damien,” Helena whispered. “I-I think I have loved you for longer than I realized, too.” Her eyes darted down, so she did not see the smile spreading across his face, the triumph in his veins. “I love you so much. And you—I don’t want to even imagine a world without you in it.”
“Aye, ye would be verra bored.”
“I—no.” Helena’s head snapped up, and her eyes widened. She gave him a sassy look. “Fine, but so would you.”
“Oh, ye willnae catch me disagreein’ on that,” Damien said and moved closer.
“Wait,” Helena said as Damien leaned in, and he groaned. “No, I must say this. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Hel…” His amusement and triumph dimmed. “Dinnae say that. If it werenae for me, ye wouldnae have gone through such a thing. Never been threatened by the likes of Lachlan.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry. If he hurt ye…”
“I’m all right,” she said softly.
“Ye dinnae seem like yerself.”
“Well, I don’t have my glasses on,” Helena jested, then her expression shifted when Damien did not laugh. “I keep thinking I will blink and be back on that wretched ship. Or that you will be gone. Or?—”
Catching her face, Damien kissed her, soft yet insistent. Until she went pliant and kissed him back.
When they broke apart, he whispered, “I am here, love. He didnae win. We defeated him.”
“I’m not sure what I did,” Helena said.
“Reminded him of what was waitin’ for him in the afterlife after he wasted so much time on a dead man’s ambitions,” Damien murmured. “With some excellent insults. Ye must teach me yer clever ways.”
Helena laughed and kissed him back, arching up to rub against him like a cat, and he groaned into her mouth. Suddenly, everything she had been saying echoed through him, only for her. He’d almost lost her.
Crushing her against him, Damien kissed her harder and without reservation. Every touch came with the intent of showing her how he loved her, how he’d feared to lose her, and she kissed him back with as much ardor.
Their tongues dueled as though they were arguing and trying to win with kisses, heat licking at them despite the cold air. Damien’s hand fisted into the back of her gown. The material was thin—so thin. It would be easy enough to tear it off her.
Damien was about to do just that, but then he caught himself.
“Hel, Hel,” he said and held her off. “We must stop.”
Her lips were swollen with his kisses, her cheeks pink with exertion, and her eyes hazy with lust. Christ, but how he loved Helena undone.
“Why?” she asked in an arch tone that went straight to his manhood, making it stiffen further.
“Because if we go on, I willnae be able to keep me word,” Damien gritted out. “Yer year is important to ye, so it is important to me. Please, love. I…” He paused and gave her a searching look, for he could not quite interpret the expression on her face. “What is it?”
“I am a brilliant woman,” Helena said slowly.
“Aye, I’ve kenned that since we met,” Damien said with a small smile.
She tossed her head. “So, I am rarely wrong. But I can be foolish.” She pressed a cool hand to his cheek, and her thumb stroked the edge of his scar. “So foolish to think like that. To put off one dream in favor of another—to stagnate and try to hold off what is in my heart.”
“Lass…” Damien said. “I am nae expectin’—”
“I know,” Helena said in a teasing tone. “But it has been foolish to think like that. I have never seen that more clearly.”
