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.