Page 56 of Whispers of Helena
I smile through my tears. “I can’t wait to be your wife, Mr. Hayes.”
His lips find mine, slow and subdued, as if savoring every second. His arms wrap tightly around me, his strength rooting me in this moment. Shifting slowly, he lowers me onto the blanket beneath us, the sky above turning hues of pink and gold.
I draw back slightly, cupping his cheek, my fingers brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. “Silas?”
His hooded eyes meet mine, filled with happiness and a flicker of need. “Yeah, love?”
I lean up, lips barely brushing his ear as I whisper, “I’m ready.”
His eyes widen as he lifts himself, bracing on his forearms. “But you said you want to wait until we’re married.”
I shrug, a playful smile curving my lips. “We’re halfway there. I have your ring on my finger, don’t I?”
A low growl rumbles from his chest. “Goddammit, Caroline, don’t tease me.”
My hands glide up to the straps of my top, my fingers hookingbeneath them. I slide them down, agonizingly slow, baring my shoulders before exposing myself fully. His gaze darkens, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, the hunger in his eyes igniting something electric in me.
Reaching for him, I begin to unbutton his shirt, my fingers brushing against the warm skin beneath as I slide the fabric from his shoulders and toss it aside.
“I want you, Silas,” I whisper, my voice trembling with need but steady with persuasion.
He hesitates for only a moment, his hands hovering over me. “Are you sure, Caroline?”
“I couldn’t be more sure of anything,” I confess, never feeling so certain of anything before.
He lowers himself onto me, his body solid against mine. For a moment, we’re both still, breaths mingling as the world narrows to just us. Then, in one fluid motion, he scoops me up, flipping me so he’s on his back, my legs draped across his waist.
The surprise sends a laugh bubbling from my lips, my hips bucking against him instinctively.
I lean down, pressing one more kiss to his lips, unable to stop smiling. “You’re like a bronco, Mr. Hayes.”
He grins, his hands gripping my hips as he presses me closer. “Then you better hold on tight, Miss Monroe.”
“Answer me!”His harsh words break me from my memories.
“It’s…it’s a strong, wild horse,” I manage quietly, cautious not to let the tremble reveal the depth of my nerves.
Before I can say more, Silas moves with startling speed. His arms drop, and he steps into my space. Before I can react, he snatches the plate and hurls it against the stable wall. The shattering crash echoes, startling me back a step.
“Do you remember last night?” His jaw ticks, his words biting, edged with frustration.
“Y-yes,” I stammer, feeling the walls close in as he inches closer.
His hands catch my wrists, rough fingers pressing into the tender skin still raw from the rope. A striking jolt of heat flares where he touches me. “Do you remember the words you said after I laid you in your bed?” His grip tightens.
My breath falters, my mind scrambling for clarity. The last clear memory is the rhythm of his steps as he carried me up the stairs. “No,” I admit shakily. “I was asleep.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, a bitter, humorless expression cutting through his features. Without warning, he pushes me against the doorframe, pinning my hands above my head. The cold wood presses against my back as his breath fans across my cheek, hot and sharp.
“How the fuck do you know the nameBronco, Helena?” His voice shakes with restrained fury, each word more pointed than the last. His eyes burn into mine, wild, searching.
“I—did I say it?” I stammer, my voice cracking under the ferocity of his demand. “I don’t?—”
“Do. Not. Fucking. Lie. To. Me.” The force of his growl rattles through me, and I freeze beneath his grasp, my heart pounding in my ears.
“Silas, I?—”
“How do you know that name, Helena?” His voice breaks, raw with something far deeper than anger. “Of all the fucking perfumes in the world, why do you wear hers? Why the fuck did I see you and her in the same place last night?”
