by Amy Jarecki
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 could 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.”
23
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.
“Are you hungry, lassie?”
Secured by her swaddling clothes, Maggie wiggled and grinned.
“Let us change out these linens first.” Though it was common practice to remove the swaddling linens and dry them by the hearth, Helen found the odor too strong, and she washed them after each use. The bairn seemed to think Helen’s idea was splendid as well, because as soon as the swaddling bands were released, she kicked her legs and gurgled.
“I rather think she likes it when she’s not bound so tight,” Eoin said, leaning against the doorjamb to the bedchamber with a plaid tucked low around his hips. His dark hair mussed and a shadow peppered his face. He stared at Helen with a halfcocked grin, his heavy-lidded eyes reminding her of the unbelievable night they’d shared.
I know I’ll burn in hell for thinking it, but I could stare at that well-muscled chest all day.
She smiled, then returned her attention to tying the coif atop Maggie’s head. “I’ve some oats for porridge. I’ll set a kettle to boil as soon as I’ve finished here.”
“Not to worry, I’ll set to rekindling the fire and making the porridge. A man’s got to fend for himself when on the trail—I’m no stranger to mixing up a kettle of oats.”
“My heavens, that’s even more surprising than my ability to cook.” Helen wound the long length of linen fabric around Maggie and refastened the swaddling bands. The babe wriggled and fussed.
“How much longer will you swaddle her?” Eoin asked.
“They say four to nine months. Though, Maggie is clearly preferring it when she has free movement.”
“You could swaddle her from the waist down to catch the drippings. If it were up to me, I’d use oiled doeskin over the linen to keep her bedclothes dry. But who would ever listen to a bachelor?”
“What a good idea.” Helen glanced around the sparsely appointed chamber. “Have you a length of soft leather?”
The fire crackled to life. “Nay. I must remember to bring some on my next visit.”
A welcomed warmth spread through Helen’s chest. She liked that he was planning to return. She poured some milk into a bowl and sat at the table with Maggie in her lap. “When will that be? Your return, that is,” she asked, spooning a bit of milk into the bairn’s mouth. The distraction of her task kept the anxiety from building up too much.
“I wish I knew.” Pots clanged. “MacDonald surveillance up and down the coast has been keeping us running. I’m certain things will come to a head soon, but only God knows how long the fighting will last.”
Helen’s stomach tensed. If only he could stay with her. “I hate to think of you being embroiled in the midst of harm.”
“’Tis not me I’m worried about.”
“Oh?”
“I do not like the thought of leaving you here alone.”
“You’re worried about me when you’re the one riding into battle?” She offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Besides, Gyllis and Mr. Keith will be watching out for me.”
Eoin picked up a cast iron kettle and headed toward the door. “I ken. But ’tis dangerous and will be more so when Aleck discovers you’re missing. We cannot risk anyone finding you until the annulment is granted. I’d prefer to remain here with you.”
After Eoin opened the door, a cold wind chilled Helen to the bone. When would Aleck discover she had escaped? If the men were running sorties, he could learn of it any day. The chill made her shudder as she remembered his threat… If you attempt to take my daughter from Mingary, I will hunt you down and kill you…It won’t be an easy death. I’ll make sure you suffer for a very long time.
She must have had a terrified look on her face, because when Eoin returned with the kettle filled with water, he hastened to set it down and dashed to her side. “What is it?”
“Please, do not let him find us.”
He gathered her in his arms. “I’ll never let that man harm you again.” He cradled her face in his palms. “Duncan never should have arranged your marriage to MacIain and, further, I should have stopped it at the time. I will spend the rest of my life making up for your past five years of suffering.”
“No, you mustn’t carry the burden of my past upon your shoulders.” Helen slid her arms around him and clung tight. “I only wish you could stay.”
Nearly a month passed before Eoin could slip away to see Helen again. Even now, he should be patrolling with MacIain, but when Aleck’s galley was forced into dry dock for re
pairs at Tabert, Eoin took advantage of his window of time. I told the braggart to clear those damn mussels from his hull ages ago. Eoin chuckled. Lucky for me he didn’t listen.
Before he sailed off with a small crew, Eoin had given Duncan the excuse he needed to take care of Clan Gregor business and would return within a sennight. Duncan didn’t like it, but the baron had no grounds on which to argue. The Lord of Glenorchy had made two visits to Kilchurn Castle during the past month.
As the boat tacked into the pier at Taynuilt, Fergus grinned like a wet-eared lad. “Me missus will be happy to see us.”
Eoin winked. “You’ll make her a happy woman, I’ve no doubt. Go on ahead with the men and I’ll meet you back here in a sennight.”
Fergus snorted. “You’re not going with us?”
“Nay, I’ve business to the south.”
“Bloody hell, m’laird. Every time we cast ashore for a moment’s rest, you ride off on some clandestine mission.”
Sometimes Eoin’s membership in the Highland Enforcers came in handy. “You ken how it is when carrying a message for the king. The more who ken my whereabouts, the more dangerous it is.”
Fergus gave a knowing nod. “Well, do not count on seeing me for a sennight, then. I aim to keep my woman warm and make up for all the time we’ve been away.”
“Good to hear.” Eoin slapped the henchman’s shoulder then turned his attention to the mooring. Sailing into the small fishing village of Taynuilt, no one at Dunollie Castle would be aware of Eoin’s visit this time, and since his men had no idea what he was up to, Helen’s hiding place was safe from discovery.
After procuring a horse from the local stable, he made his way south into Fearnoch Forest, ever so anxious to see her again.
Approaching the cottage, he slowed his horse to a walk. A gentle hum sailed through the air—Helen’s voice. Gooseflesh rose across Eoin’s skin. Oh how he adored the melodic sound of her singing. He drew near enough to glimpse his lady through the trees.