Highland Knight of Rapture (Highland Dynasty Book 4)

by Amy Jarecki

  He filled her cup and then his. “We’ll be sailing into battle soon, I’ve no doubt.”

  She hated the idea of Eoin being embroiled in more fighting. “Why is the king waiting?”

  “They are outfitting all the galleys with cannons, but the work’s nearly done.”

  She pressed her hand to her abdomen. “You’ll be expected back soon, then?”

  “Aye.” He gave her a sheepish grimace. “Actually, no one kens I’ve left aside from my men, and they are awaiting me at Dunollie.”

  “Oh heavens.” Her gaze shot to the door. “Do they ken I’m here?”

  “Nay.” He patted her shoulder with a gentle hand. “Mr. Keith stressed how important it is to keep your location a secret and I most certainly agree.”

  Helen sat on the bench across from where he stood. As proper, he followed suit and took his seat, then raised his cup. “To you, Lady Helen. The bravest woman I know.”

  Goodness, he had an endearing way of making her feel important—respected. “You are very kind to say so, sir knight.” She sipped her wine. The fruity, oaken flavor enlivened her palette. “Thank you for coming. I am ever so happy to see you,” she added in a whisper.

  “Lady Helen.” Eoin reached across the table and touched his fingers to her cheek. Though his pads were rough, his touch was feather light. Closing her eyes, she leaned into his hand. Kindness from a man was something she knew little of.

  His gaze grew dark and intense. “I would have sailed around the world just to see you if only for a moment.”

  A bit of her heart melted.

  They’d never talked about what might happen after the annulment was granted—if it was granted. And if it was not, Helen could find herself at Aleck MacIain’s mercy. Perhaps that’s why she avoided thinking about her future.

  She picked up her spoon and took a bite.

  Eoin did the same. Through the entire meal, he held her gaze, staring at her with those intense blue eyes while the candlelight flickered amber across his sun-weathered skin.

  Helen couldn’t remember ever gazing upon a man more ruggedly handsome. Moreover, merely with a look he expressed his love—his strength. With Eoin near, she needn’t fear. If only this eve would last forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The moment Mr. Keith had arrived and told of Helen’s incarceration and escape, Eoin had set sail for Dunollie with fury pulsing through his veins. Blast it all, he hadn’t been able to protect her from Aleck’s sordid treatment.

  Without considering the consequences, he rushed to her to ensure she was safe and unharmed. At least that’s what he told himself.

  But chatting with Helen over simple fare and sweet wine was like being sent to heaven. She’d changed since he’d last seen her. Aye, she’d dropped a few pounds which she could ill afford, but Helen carried her shoulders with more ease. Her mouth wasn’t pulled tight at the corners. Even her neck appeared longer. The stresses at Mingary most certainly had her wound tighter than a spring, but out there in the middle of the forest, she’d already relaxed some. She again looked like the winsome lass he’d fallen in love with so long ago.

  Eoin listened thoughtfully to her banter, enraptured with the sultry lilt of Helen’s voice. Had she no idea of the extent of her allure? He swirled his second helping of wine and sipped. He held the cup to his lips for a time, watching her from behind it, hiding his smile. By God, her beauty surpassed anything he’d seen in all his travels.

  At the cottage, she’d left her tresses uncovered and unbound. Her hair hung past her waist in waves of honey. Eoin’s fingers twitched. He reached across the table and grasped a lock. Ah, yes. It was spun of pure silk. “You should never cover your hair.” Gruff with longing, he hardly recognized his voice.

  Helen’s hands flew to her crown. “My heavens. I’ve been in the forest for two days and already I’m forgetting propriety.”

  “Not at all. It pleases me that you’re comfortable without a veil.” He held the lock to his nose and inhaled. “Mm. Purer than a bar of rose-scented soap.”

  A nervous chuckle slid through Helen’s lips. “’Tis just my wily mop of hair.”

  He lowered his chin and deliberately stared. “I beg to differ.”

  She fanned her face. “My, the wine is making me flush.”

  Eoin would wager the adorable blush blossoming in her cheeks wasn’t caused by the wine. He’d been willfully staring at her since arriving.

  “’Tis growing late,” she said. “Are your men expecting you?”

  So enraptured was he, that he hadn’t blinked in some time, nor did he want to close his eyes for even a fraction of a moment. “On the morrow.”

  Helen’s gaze shot to the bedchamber, then her exquisite pink tongue slipped out and moistened her bottom lip. “Eoin, I—”

  He couldn’t allow her to say it. Standing, he strolled around the table and grasped her hand. “Come here.”

  A wee gasp caught in her throat as she dipped her gaze to their hands, her dainty palm cradled in his. Watching, Eoin didn’t hurry her. She raised her chin and met his gaze—those sky blue eyes turning the shade of midnight. Hot, raw desire thrummed through his manhood.

  With a slight tug, he pulled her into his arms. Brushing a lock of hair from her face his chest swelled. “I want to gaze upon your beauty.”

  Without a word she smiled and slowly slid her hands around his waist until their bodies touched.

  Damnation, she molded to him like she’d always been meant to be in his arms. He was so damned hard. He’d been hard since she’d opened the door to the cottage. There were no words to express the intensity of the love bursting from his chest. He wanted so much to protect her—to cherish her—to show her just how deeply a woman could be loved.

  Her eyes watched him with a combination of fear and trust.

  Eoin dipped his gaze to her lips—still moist. Searing need swirled in his groin. Heaven help him, but he wanted her. He’d wanted her every day of his life. Though he’d searched, he hadn’t found another woman who could reach his soul like Helen Campbell, and now he held the object of his passion in his arms. Before she could utter another word, he claimed her mouth. Since the day he’d kissed her in the shed, he’d relived that glorious moment over and over. Greedy for more, he slipped his tongue between her lips forcing himself to be gentle, reverent.

  As they joined, Helen sighed into his mouth—her response not pensive as it had been before. She yielded to him, slipping her arms up his back and pulling him closer. Her mouth was silky, hot and wet. Eoin pressed the length of his body against her, but it wasn’t enough. He skimmed his hands down to her buttocks and tugged her hips flush against his all-demanding, mind-consuming erection.

  Helen shuddered and softened her kiss until she pulled her lips away. Eoin leaned toward her, desperate for more.

  “We mustn’t,” she said, her trembling voice barely audible.

  He brushed the back of his finger along her cheek. She was as radiant as Aphrodite. “You have already left him.”

  Her inhale stuttered. “But I have not yet been granted an annulment.”

  “Will a slip of parchment make you want me all-the-more?” How could he allay her fears? Her kisses declared her love—if only she would give in to her desire.

  Helen took in a deep breath. “I’m so afraid. Aleck could kill us both.”

  Eoin’s jaw tensed. “That man can never touch us. I will protect you with my life. Never again will I allow him to harm you or Miss Maggie.”

  “Dear Lord.” She pressed praying fingers to her lips. “I hate that I have brought you into this mess.”

  “I would not have you suffer this alone.” He drew his eyebrows together. “I am here because there is no place I’d rather be. At Mingary, I made a vow that I would be your guardian knight and I will stand by that promise until I draw my last breath.”

  “Your kindness exceeds all expectations.” She pressed her palm over his heart. “But I cannot rely upon you to push aside your
life and hide as I am.”

  “Problems have a way of finding resolve.” Eoin brushed a wisp of hair away from her face. “I ken you care for me.”

  “Och,” she groaned, resuming her grip around his waist and resting her head on his chest. “I love you more than life itself. I’ve always loved you.”

  “Ah, mo leannan.” He kissed her forehead. “My love for you runs deeper than the sea.”

  “I cannot tell you how much your words make my heart soar. But we cannot risk being caught. Aleck would see me hanged.”

  Eoin bristled at the mention of that bastard’s name. “No, lass. I will never allow him to harm you again. He has treated you with more disdain than any woman could be expected to tolerate from her spouse. Moreover, no one, save Gyllis and Mr. Keith, kens where we are.”

  She raised her chin and met his gaze. “And your men suspect nothing?”

  “I saw no need to tell them of your misfortune. For all they know, I’ve ridden to Kilchurn. Unless Mr. Keith says something.”

  Helen shook her head. “The noble guard spirited me away. I trust him almost as much as I trust my sister.”

  “True, he is indeed an ardently loyal servant.”

  Helen rested against him. “I’ve grown so tired of living in fear.”

  Eoin smoothed his hand over Helen’s hair and cradled her head to his heart. “I ken, my love. You are such a giving person, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to know what it’s like to be treasured.” He pressed his lips against her forehead and closed his eyes. “I love you, Helen. I meant what I said. I have always loved you. I want to be the man to protect you, to stand beside you throughout this lifetime, to be a father for Maggie and for children to come.”

  “Mm. Your words are like a minstrel’s ballad. You have no idea how long I’ve yenned to hear it.” She took his hand and kissed his palm. “But what if—”

  “There is no what if. There is only us.” Eoin scooped her into his arms and started for the bedchamber.

  Helen pointed behind them. “But Maggie.”

  “She’s sleeping.” He covered her mouth with a swirling kiss, drawing away all her doubt. She looped her arms around his neck and gave in to their passion as he crossed the threshold.

  Gently, Eoin set her on the bed. Faint light from the candles in the main chamber cast flickering ochre shadows through the room. “How many years have passed since we first met?” he asked.

  “Since you arrived at Kilchurn for your fostering?”

  “Aye.”

  She pulled the laces on his shirt, but like a timid maid, Helen released her grasp before she fully untied it. “I’d say it has been just shy of a score of years.”

  “Then that is how long I’ve loved you.”

  She chuckled. “Surely not when I was a child?”

  “Even then.” He leaned in and nuzzled her ear. “I remember watching you when I first arrived. Your skin was flawless, your eyes blue as the sky above, and your hair reminded me of gilded thread used only to stitch royal garments.”

  She twirled his shirt lace around her finger. “You thought all that at the age of four and ten?”

  “I did.” Leaning in, he trailed kisses down her neck. “I’ve always wanted you for my own, Lady Helen.”

  ***

  She shuddered right down to her toes. Aleck had never made her tremor with want, had never made the gooseflesh rise across her arms. But the deep rumble of Eoin’s voice caused her insides to swarm with flutters of desire. Her body came alive with need, but yet she still feared so many things.

  Eoin tugged the lace of her kirtle. Helen gasped and slid away from him. He reached out for her hands and pulled her back. “You’ve nothing to fear from me. I promise.”

  She nodded and looked down. Though copulation had never been enjoyable for her in the past, she trusted Eoin. Even more confounding, she craved his touch.

  He fingered her kirtle laces. “Are you all right?”

  “Aye,” she whispered, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

  As if he were honing the fine edge of his blade, he unlaced every eyelet of her kirtle. Bending down, he ran fluttering kisses over the top of her bodice as he slid it from her shoulders. “Your skin is finer than pure silk,” he purred.

  Helen’s knees turned to boneless mollusks as he removed her stays. All the while, the scent of spicy male sent her insides aflutter with anticipation. Aleck had never fussed with removing her clothing. But now Helen’s breath became labored as she allowed Eoin to undress her. She wanted him to see her naked, moreover, she hungered to see all of him.

  Once Eoin stripped her down to nothing but her linen shift, she grew bold. Reaching up, she pushed the quilted arming doublet from his shoulders and let it cascade to the floor.

  He grasped the skirt of her shift, but she placed the palm of her hand on his chest. “You first.”

  With a chuckle, he kicked off his boots, then pulled the shirt over his head and cast it aside.

  Aye, she’d seen him shirtless before, but watching him now in the privacy of the tiny bedchamber brought on a longing so intense, her very skin coursed with anticipation.

  Eoin’s eyes darkened and his devilish grin turned up at one corner of his mouth while he loosened his belt and dropped his breeks. His need pushed out against his linen braies. With a flick of his fingers, he untied the knot holding them up and let them fall.

  Standing naked as God intended, Helen never in her life imagined such virile beauty in a man. No piece of art or statue reflected Eoin’s magnificence. Head to toe, and halfway back up again, Helen drank him in…all of him.

  Trying to breathe, Helen traced the fine, chiseled muscles of his chest. She gasped. Though his skin was incredibly warm, it was as hard as iron. A powerful need deep within her core coiled like the winding of a spring. She swirled her fingers through the downy hair on his chest before trailing her hand down the center of his rock-hard abdomen.

  Eoin’s moan rumbled with basal desire.

  His erection jutted from a nest of tight mahogany curls. Helen’s need scorched her insides and she licked her lips while her fingers twitched, not daring to go further.

  Rocking his hips forward, the tip of his manhood touched her finger. She gasped.

  So did he.

  Meeting his gaze, Eoin nodded and lowered his lashes, telling her what he wanted simply with a look.

  Her lips parted as she gradually wrapped her hand around him and stroked. Letting out a belabored breath, Eoin pulled her into his arms and pressed himself against her.

  His hardness made her head swoon. Helen rocked her hips toward him, craving friction.

  “I cannot hold back much longer,” he growled, tugging up her shift and pulling it over her head.

  Completely naked, Helen slid back onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees—totally at a loss for what she should do. “I want you to join with me. And believe me when I say I’ve never uttered such words before. I feel like a virgin.”

  “Then I shall be all the more gentle with you.” His voice rumbled like distant thunder.

  Tugging her arms open, he crawled over her, and levered himself between her thighs. Helen could not drag her eyes away. The thick column of his erection pointed straight at her nether parts. With a stuttered inhale, Helen prepared herself for a jolt of pain—one she would welcome from Eoin MacGregor.

  But he did something completely unexpected.

  Rocking back on his haunches, he ran the pad of his thumb down her sex and swirled it through her moisture. “You’re so wet for me.”

  “’Tis a good thing?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.

  His deep chuckle rolled through her chest. “Aye, a very good thing.”

  Helen closed her eyes and moved her hips in tandem with his caresses. Gently, he slipped a finger inside her. In and out—oh, how unbearably tantalizing his touch. Helen’s breathing sped. Never would she have believed she could feel this completely aroused. Only her deep love for Eoin coul
d allow such unabashed intimacy. She opened her eyes and drank in his manhood while Eoin tempted her with his feather-light strokes.

  Gasping, she could manage one syllable. “Now.”

  Eoin grinned and shifted his hips forward while guiding his erection to her entrance. Helen spread her legs wider. His tip filled her, stretched her taut, yet it felt amazing. She braced herself for the pain.

  He took his weight onto his elbows and lay atop her without crushing. Rocking his hips forward, he slid deeper inside while covering her mouth and entwining her tongue with his. Completely and utterly alive, Helen gave in to the most thrilling experience of her life. Devoid of pain, her insides were slick with moisture, and welcomed him, as if telling her this had always been the man with whom she should be joined.

  Together their breathing sped as they united in a glorious dance between a man and a woman who’d spent most of their lives suppressing their affection for one another.

  Helen closed her eyes and gave in to the amazing merging her body and soul with the only man she had ever loved. The years apart only made their lovemaking all the more enjoyable. Just when she thought the pleasure could not grow better, her body shuddered on a pinnacle of pure ecstasy. Losing complete control, she cried out, bursting into magnificent spasms around him.

  Eoin pressed up with his palms and thrust deep and fast. With a basal, shuddering moan, he pulled away and found his release.

  Helen smoothed her fingers up and down his back, soothing him while his entire body tremored above her.

  Gradually his breathing stilled and he kissed her with a passion more fervent than their first kiss in the shed on that rainy day.

  Helen’s heart squeezed tight while a tear moistened the corner of her eye. “I had no idea it could be like this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Helen’s eyes flew open at the sound of Maggie’s cries. Beside her, Eoin’s body was so warm, she hated to slip out of bed into the chilly morning air. But her daughter needed tending, and through God’s grace, she was now the only person to provide that care. She found her shift in the mussed pile of garments on the floor, and pulled it over her head, then wrapped a woolen blanket around her shoulders. Shuffling to the makeshift cradle, Maggie stopped crying as soon as Helen peered over the edge.