The Highlander’s Accidental Wife (Queen’s Edict #3)

Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

“Yes,” Helena answered immediately.

He dropped her hand slowly, pulling in a breath as she stepped back and reached for the clasp on the cloak he’d given her. She unhooked it and handed it to him, and he found a stout, sturdy, and mostly dry branch to hang it on.

When he turned back, Helena’s hands hovered on her stays, before she began to slowly take off her soaked, ruined gown. She’d never looked more lovely as she took it off and let it fall to the ground, then glanced up and flushed when she saw him staring.

“Are you going to disrobe?”

“Och aye,” Damien said and turned. “Perhaps it’s best we meet in the water, me love.”

“Alright,” Helena said.

Damien pulled in an uneasy breath. Helena seemed fine—physically, at least. But she also seemed too quiet. Was it shock?

Then, he heard a splash of water and turned to see a slim, bare form, with dark hair rippling out behind—a bloody selkie come to life. He sighed, some of the tension leaving him, and dropped his kilt. As he approached the water, Helena gasped and stood up. Her dark hair draped around her and covered her lovely breasts, but the water just lapped at the apex of her thighs, shadowed with curls.

“I sometimes think you cannot be real,” Helena said in a shaking voice that sent a frisson of heat through Damien. “That I have read too many myths and legends and conjured a warrior from the beautiful gods and demi-gods.”

Damien smiled and eased into the water, moving toward her. His body was flooded with relief as the warmth stole into his muscles and soothed his pain.

“Love, ye ken better than to compare.”

“Not compare. You would honor them,” she said and took his face. “I—you scared me, Damien.” Her hazel eyes were filled with reproach. “I know what you almost did.”

Gave up Morighe for ye, aye.

He rested his forehead against hers and then wrapped his arms around her, their bare bodies brushing.

“I dinnae regret it.” She tensed up. “I told ye, I love ye.” He paused. “And ye were the one who saved me—saved Morighe this time. Ye gave me the strength and distracted Lachlan. It’s all thanks to ye.”

“No, I…” Helena’s body shuddered with a sob. “You would’ve sacrificed everything. I…”

“Shhh, come here,” Damien said and sank into the water with his love.

He rubbed soothing circles on her back and told her lore from the land around them, all the while letting the water lap at them and clean them.

When Helena had calmed down, they broke apart and scrubbed their flesh. Once Damien felt clean, he turned and saw Helena resting her chin on her arms on a nearby rock. Her eyes were closed, but her face seemed troubled.

“Hel,” he said as he moved closer. “Ye are far too quiet. Will ye talk to me?”

Helena slowly opened her eyes and focused on him—or tried. Then, she squinted and stood up, moving closer to him. “Your arm. We need to clean and bandage it.”

Damien made to argue, then stopped, sensing it would not go well with her. Instead, he nodded, and they clambered out. He tried not to look at her for too long as he wrapped her in the cloak, and then he grabbed his kilt and shoved his feet into his boots, not even bothering with his shirt.

The walk back to the lodge felt too quick and too slow at the same time. Hand in hand, they walked in. Damien immediately went to the fireplace and started grabbing logs, along with chaff.

“Go into that room over yonder and see what clothes ye can scrounge up.”

Helena nodded, picking up a candle and lighting it, then venturing into the room.

“A day gown and some trews,” she said when she returned, gesturing toward herself. She wearing a white gown that stuck to her in a way that made Damien swallow hard. “Let’s clean your arm.”

She tossed the trews at Damien, who shrugged and stood in front of the fire. His kilt was nearly dry, as were his boots. Watching Helena rummage around the kitchen, his heart misgave him. Something was wrong.

She returned in a moment with a small chest and looked him over.

“How are your extremities?” she asked, and Damien tilted his head. She flushed. “Your feet, your hands, your…everything.”

“Ach,” Damien said. “Better now. Seems there’s nay lastin’ damage.”

Helena bit her lip and nodded, then bid Damien to sit on the low footstool and began to dab at his shoulder. She was meticulous in cleaning and bandaging his arm, then sighed and ran her hand over his hair. Her fingers lingered on the strap of his eyepatch, and a shiver went through him.

“This is quite damp,” she said. “Perhaps you should take it off.”

“Aye, I could,” he said in a rough voice, watching her walk away with the box in her hands and tugging at his eyepatch. He hung it above the fire and raked a hand through his dark hair. “D’ye want to take a bath? I could heat some water for ye.”

Helena tossed him a look over her shoulder. “Did we not just take a bath together, My Laird?”

“Aye,” Damien said. “Well…”

Silence fell over them, and again, that tension crackled in the air, sharp as a blade.

“Hel, would ye talk to me? I am worried about ye. Hel?”

His bride-to-be had suddenly snatched up her cloak and boots, before rushing out the door. Damien blew out a breath before he followed, not even bothering to put a shirt on. She wove through the trees until she came to a rock near the waterfalls and stared up at it, then rounded on him. There was a sheen of tears on her face.

“Helena,” Damien chided. “What did I tell ye about runnin’? And after tonight?—”

“You could have died, ” she snapped, her fists clenched. “Swimming in the Shipmaw in winter? In a bloody storm? With no goddamn boots? I?—”

Damien moved closer and caught her arms, but she pulled free and shoved at him.

“I wish I could hate you right now.”

“Do ye?” Damien asked in a low voice, fighting a smile, as he suspected what was going on.

“No,” Helena said and threw herself at him, hugging him more tightly than she ever had before. “ No .”

Minutes passed, and she did not let go.

Damien held her as tightly, then he pulled her back. “Hel?—”

“Say it now,” she demanded, her eyes bright with tears. “Say it without the goddamn sword of Damocles threatening us, with enemies all around, and a storm shattering the horizon.”

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.”

She leaned in and kissed him—a light, teasing kiss, and then a firmer one, as though she were making another point.

“One should not wait for good things when they’re alive, but seize them.”

“Or ask them to dance?” Damien tried to jest, but his throat was tight.

Nodding, Helena kissed him again, this time on the corner of his mouth, and then his jaw, and then his neck. Finally, she pressed a kiss to his bare chest, right above his heart, and then laid her cheek there.

“To think that I almost died without telling you that I loved you,” she whispered. “It does not bear thinking of—but I cannot stop. And every time, it threatens to break my heart.” She tightened her arms around his waist. “How I love you, Damien.”

“Hel,” he murmured and stroked a hand over her hair. “This is what has been troublin’ ye, hmm? But I am here. And I love ye. That’s all that matters.”

“Exactly,” Helena said and stepped back. Her chest rose and fell as she reached up and began to undo the stays of her gown. “I do not intend to waste any more time. I have wanted you since I saw you step out of the shadows in Fallenworth, since the first time you looked at me—smiled at me…”

Damien could not believe what was happening. His blood was hot, and yet he tried to hold onto every moment, remember Helena’s every word. Her fingers were steady as she undid her gown and let it drop to the ground, leaving her naked under her cloak in the moonlight.

“Since the first time you touched me when we danced, I wanted more. I wanted you.” She bit her lip and gave him a shy look. “I’d never had such vivid thoughts about a man before. Never thought I would have such vivid thoughts about a big, scary Highlander.”

“Aye?” Damien said in a hoarse voice as he looked at his betrothed, bared for him, her pretty breasts pebbling in the cold. “Did ye think about me touchin’ and kissin’ every inch of ye? Because that’s what I wanted. To make ye moan and laugh and cry out me name—beg for more.” He swallowed and added in a whisper, “And make love to ye.”

At that, Helena’s eyes lit up, and she reached for him, but he was already there, kissing her. His hands were in her long, damp hair, and then his teeth were teasing her collarbone as she panted.

His hands were greedy and unrestrained, seeking out every inch of her bare flesh. Before, the time they’d spent together always seemed limited, never enough. And yet Damien would’ve waited a year for her.

“I would’ve waited decades for ye, me love,” he said as he kissed her neck again and kneaded her breasts without mercy. “But I am glad ye have seen sense.”

He’d said as much to rile her, and sure enough, her eyes flashed with outrage. Unable to help himself, he pinched her nipples, and her head fell back. Now, he lowered his mouth and sucked on them, before moving lower and kissing her quivering stomach.

Helena reached for him, but he shook his head and kissed her again.

“If ye touch me, I willnae make it,” he said between kisses. Then, his hand trailed down and teased her warmth, causing her to jolt. “But ye… Well, I am big, love. Let me ready ye.”

She nodded, biting her lip, and then she let out a soft cry of pleasure when he teased her pearl. “Damien, please.”

“Och, so impatient,” Damien muttered as he teased her more, and her face tightened with pleasure. “I love that look—so focused as I discover all yer secrets.”

She begged and writhed against him until he could not wait any longer. Seizing her waist, he lifted her, and she knew to wrap her legs around him. He bucked against her, and she moaned.

“Aye, love, ye shall take me soon,” he snarled. “How did I bloody wait for so long?”

Carrying her over to a mossy rock, Damien laid her down, and she propped herself up on her elbows. Meanwhile, she pressed her heels by her bum and opened her legs.

He stared, and she gave him a shy look. “Like this?”

“For now,” he gritted out.

He flipped up his kilt and grasped her waist, pulling her forward. She let out a mewl as his hot, hard manhood stroked against her. His entire body clenched in pleasure at the feel of her soft heat, never mind what was waiting for him.

“D’ye want me deep, Hel? Or shall I show ye a bit of mercy this time?”

Helena shivered under his touch and gave him a smile that he wanted to taste. “I did try to make you wait. I’m not sure I deserve mercy.”