Chapter Twenty-Two
Camden didnae need to look up to ken who had entered.
The very air shifted, seeming charged and alive, as though awareness moved ahead of her. He drew in a steady breath, set the glass bottle aside, and rose from his stool, bracing himself for whatever words she had brought with her.
When he turned, Anne stood just within the doorway.
For a moment he simply stared.
Her hair had been drawn back at the temples, the rest falling freely past her shoulders in soft waves that tempted him to touch.
The light that fell over her from the doorway accentuated her features, lending her an almost unearthly glow.
She wore no adornments, no ribbons, no jewels, yet she needed none.
To Camden, she was a beautiful creature that stilled his breath.
He felt an ache of longing, to close the distance, to thread his fingers through those dark tresses, to reassure himself she truly stood there.
“Gowan told me what ye said.”
She set her basket at her feet and straightened. Her gaze met his, steady, searching, and something in his chest tightened.
“How fare ye?” she asked.
Without dwelling on whether or not he should, Camden stepped toward her, drawn as surely as tide to shore, yet he halted just shy of touching her. “My stomach was unsettled this morning,” he admitted. “But I fared better once I ate.”
She lifted her hand, fingers brushing gently against his cheek, and he leaned into the touch.
“That is an ugly bruise,” she murmured.
“Aye,” he said quietly, covering her hand with his own. “I discovered as much when I washed my face this morning.” His voice softened, guilt rising sharp and insistent. “I am so very sorry, Anne.”
Her brow creased. “Ye have nothing to apologize for. I ken what happened. It was nae yer—”
“No.”
The word escaped before he could temper it. He drew a breath, forcing himself to speak plainly. “What happened is partly my fault. I allowed Moyra’s attentions to continue when I should have made things clear. I knew her feelings were stronger than mine. That was arrogance. And it hurt ye.”
Anne’s eyebrow arched, approval flickering in her expression. “It is admirable for a man to consider a woman’s feelings.”
“My failure caused ye pain, the woman whom I love.” He faltered only briefly. “For that, I am truly sorry.”
He reached for her then, heart thundering, and brushed his lips over hers. When she didnae pull away, relief surged through him. Tentatively he deepened the kiss. And when she leaned into him and softened against him, Camden gathered her into his arms, holding her close.
Gratitude flooded him, fierce and humbling for the chance to recover what had nearly been lost.
When she sighed and slipped her arms around his waist, Camden could imagine no greater moment than standing there, wrapped in the woman who held his heart.
*
Heat stirred through Anne, bright and undeniable. Her pulse quickened, warmth spreading beneath her skin as she felt the strength of him around her, the steady presence she had come to crave.
She struggled to contain the rush of feeling, but the words escaped before she could call them back.
“I love ye, Camden.”
He stilled, then sagged slightly with relief, as though something tightly held had been released. He lifted his head, searching her eyes.
“I am a very fortunate man,” he said softly. His glance flicked toward the door, left slightly ajar. “Brae is away at archery camp.”
Anne blinked. “We are alone then?”
“Aye, Brae will be gone for a pair of days.” His thumb brushed lightly against her temple. “Would ye like to sit with me in the other room? Ye need not if ye prefer otherwise.”
A flicker of disappointment surprised her; her body still humming from his kisses and their closeness. She was reluctant to step away.
“T-talk?” she managed, voice roughened. “Oh… aye. If that is what ye wish.”
He studied her expression, something curious dawning in his eyes. Then he drew her closer once more, his lips brushing from her temple toward her ear.
“Or, my bedchamber,” he murmured gently. The suggestion lingered between them, warm, unspoken, and full of promise.
Anne clung to him, not daring to speak as words could not form. Never in her life had she been so sure of wanting to be with a man as much as she did in that moment. “I would love that,” she admitted and instantly she felt her face heat.
Not seeming to notice, Camden took her mouth with his as he guided her to the door. Somehow, he managed to close and bar the door to the outside world with barely a break between kisses.
Taking her hand, he guided her past the shelves of bottles and the table with herbs strewn across the surface. Everything was a blur in his haste to get them where they would be alone and unable to be disturbed by anyone or anything.
His bedchamber was larger than she’d expected, a wide space with a bed, a side table, a pitcher and basin stand, and several trunks. There were hooks on the wall from which hung cloaks. It was quite orderly, not that she cared at the moment.
All she could focus on was Camden as he pulled her with both hands to stand near the bed. He didn’t ask any questions, instead, he hesitated, allowing her time to consider her decision.
Her response was to remove her shawl and place it on one of the trunks, then she bent, untied her laces, and removed her shoes.
He stood immobile watching her as she undid the laces to her vest, followed by removing her skirt and blouse.
Once she wore only a chemise, did he come to her, his broad chest lifting and lowering in rapid succession.
“Anne…” his tone was almost pained. “Ye are mine, at last.” With that, he took her into his arms, his mouth over hers, rough hands over the expanse of her body, as if he needed to ensure she was real.
She helped him remove his tunic, as desperate to see him as he was her. His boots and breeches followed in quick succession, leaving him bare.
Although she’d seen men fully naked, having assisted with care of the injured during past attacks on the isle, it was nothing compared to that moment.
Camden was beautifully formed, his hips narrow and thighs thick.
She glanced between his legs, unable to keep the curiosity at bay, to find he was well-endowed and at the moment quite aroused.
Running her hand down his back was wonderful, even more so when he pressed his hardness into her, their bodies seeming to fit together as if cut from the same piece of wood. Two lost pieces finding each other.
Camden slipped the straps of her chemise off her shoulders, gently pushing the fabric until the garment slid from her body and pooled around her feet. Then he lifted her into his arms.
Held by him, Anne lost her ability to breathe as they fell into bed together. She clung to him, as if expecting that at any moment he would disappear, vanish into thin air leaving her adrift.
It was as if he too didn’t wish to tempt fate because he pulled her close against him as their tongues entwined, in a dance that teased the senses.
Trailing his mouth from hers, Camden’s tongue formed circles on her sensitive flesh, drawing the pattern on her neck and then further down.
His hands slid up her sides cupping her generous breasts, each thumb teasing the hard tips.
Tingles of something unexpected traveled up her legs connecting at the very center, and Anne bit her lip to hold back a moan.
When his mouth closed over her right nipple and he suckled it, the sound escaped and she raked her fingers into his hair wanting him to pull harder.
Lingering his mouth working its magic emboldened her to explore him. She skimmed her hands over the expanse of his back and then down his spine until coming to the swell of his butt. Touching him was exhilarating and she marveled in the thrill of it.
The place between her legs was on fire, one that only Camden could douse and she wanted him to touch her there.
“Camden…” she gasped.
He lifted from her chest, lips moist, and looked up at her. “I need ye too.”
When he came over her, Anne instinctively parted her legs so that he could settle between them. Camden moved over her like he had before, his hardened sex sliding between her folds, each movement sending waves of desire and heat, each time more distinct.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, an invitation for more.
When he entered her, it was as if the world spun faster. Anne cried out as he broke through her maidenhead, annoyed when he hesitated.
“It should pass,” he explained, with what looked to be a panicked expression.
“For goodness’ sake, Camden, move,” Anne said, pushing her hips up. “Ye cannae stop now.”
Breathing hard and slick with perspiration, Camden finally collapsed over her.
For her part, Anne lay unmoving, her body limp.
Together they’d climbed to unexplainable heights.
The first time, just after Camden shuddered in release, Anne had climaxed and it had been wonderful.
The second time, she’d come so hard she was sure to have fainted.
All she knew was that she’d fallen into a dark abyss, her body shattering with so much force that she’d not been able to hold on to reality.
This time it had taken Camden longer, but when he’d shuddered and spilled, he’d been quite vocal.
A hoarse moan escaping that Anne had found thrilling.
He lifted and rolled from her, grinning at her like a loon. “I love that ye are nae shy about making love. I am marrying the perfect woman.”
“Marriage?” Anne teased. “Have I accepted?”
He blinked, then frowned. “We must speak to Gowan immediately.”
Anne pulled a blanket to cover her nakedness. “Not until after I eat. I am quite famished.”