m’lady? It looks like we could be seeing some rain.”
“Oh my.” She pressed her gloved fingers over her bow-shaped lips. “We’d best be heading back.”
Eoin took Helen’s basket and led her out of the village and past the turn to Cate’s cottage. They’d nearly traveled a mile when a sloppy raindrop splashed Eoin’s cheek. “We may have left a bit late.”
She walked briskly beside him. “If we hurry we might make it.”
A streak of lightning fingered across the sky, followed by a thundering clap. In the blink of an eye, the skies opened with a deluge.
“Ack!” Helen lifted her hem and hastened her pace.
The rain came down in sheets and they hadn’t even traveled halfway to the castle. Worse, Mistress Cate’s cottage was a good half-mile back.
Eoin peered left then right—searching for anything that could provide shelter. Nestled against a hill was an old lean-to. Eoin grasped Helen’s elbow. “Come.” He tucked her beneath his arm and held his cloak over her head. “’Tis not much, but it will do until the downpour eases.”
She leaned into him. “I hope this squall doesn’t last long.”
He helped her step over a fallen tree. “The clouds are thick, but I’ve never seen a torrent like this last for more than an hour or so.”
When he led her inside, Helen shivered. “Brr, I’m soaked clean through already.” Her wimple had been pushed from her hair and her mantle draped flush against her shoulders like wet bed linens.
Eoin removed his cloak. Though it had been oiled, it was too wet to be of any use in warming her. He hung it on a nail. “Take off your mantle and I’ll hang it beside mine.”
“I doubt they’ll dry.” She handed him the garment.
“But you’ll catch a chill if you remain wrapped in wet garments.”
She smoothed her hands across her face and over her exposed tresses. “I’m afraid that cannot be helped.”
Eoin’s gaze dipped to her chest. Though wearing a high collared neckline, her wet gown clung to her breasts like a second skin. A twinge of yearning hit him deep in the gut. His gaze dipping lower, her nipples stood erect through the woolen fabric.
Devil’s bones, his cock came alive like a waking dragon.
Helen pulled her arms across her body, her teeth chattering. “Unfortunate we’ve no hearth and flint.”
Eoin placed his hands on her shoulders. “Allow me to warm you, m’lady.”
Her lips parted and she drew in a sharp breath as if she were going to issue a rebuttal. But she offered a shy nod.
Cautiously, he slid his palms around her back. Wet woman molded to his chest, her breasts plying him. The points of her nipples teased as if begging him to untie her kirtle and suckle them. Eoin stiffened when her mons brushed his cock. Not a maid, she would be aware of his arousal.
Helen suddenly stood very still. She did not pull away, nor did she push into his erection. When she slid her hands around his waist, Eoin gasped. Damnation, the lass felt better than any woman he’d ever held in his arms before. His heart thrummed, his cock ached to push into her and rub. But this was Lady Helen. He couldn’t force himself upon her and take advantage of his best friend’s sister, a woman he’d known since he was four and ten—a woman who was…married.
Jesus strike me dead now.
She rested her head against his chest, yet still said nothing.
Eoin inhaled and tightened his embrace, settling his cheek atop Helen’s head. She smelled purer than a newborn lamb. God, he’d do anything to turn back time and offer for her hand.
When her fingers pressed into his back, Eoin almost moaned for the soothing caress of her touch. But he controlled his longings and held absolutely still. He even kept his breathing shallow.
Ever so gently, she plied his lower back with deft fingers. How long had it been since he’d felt a woman’s gentle touch. Too long. And Helen’s fingers were caressing him so lightly—like a timid kitten.
Eoin pressed his lips into her silken hair and closed his eyes. Drinking her in, he wanted to savor this moment. Fate had led them into this rickety shelter and, by the grace of God, the only woman he’d ever loved was wrapped in his embrace.
Ever so slightly, Helen relaxed into him.
Had he imagined it?
Her hands slid up his spine, fingers massaging as they slid back down.
He shivered.
Good God.
Insatiable hunger stirred in Eoin’s lower belly, his heart swelled in his chest. The tip of