the table before he turned back to look at her. “But that is only because Gwen knew it was in the best interest of the McQuades for me to find a noblewoman for a wife.”
His words hurt. Her gaze lowered to the floor to hide the pain slashing through her. Keir cupped her chin, following her backward when she retreated from his touch. She hadn’t heard his feet on the floor—not even a tiny hint that he was closing the distance.
“She left me because she knew that I didna love her. At the time I argued with her. Even insisted that she would make a fine wife. But she would nae wed a man who didna love her.”
His hand left her chin. He stroked her cheek and she turned to allow the touch. A shudder wracked her body. She felt his touch so much more keenly than anyone else’s. Each fingertip brought her joy as they slid over the surface of her face.
“I didna understand at the time, but I do now.”
He turned her face back so that their eyes met. Emotion flickered in his dark gaze. She didn’t fully understand it, but neither did he.
“You cannot claim to love me.”
“I know that no woman has ever upset me so much by giving me deference that I knew was false. Or that looking up to see ye gone put a bolt of fear through me that I swear I would have fallen to my knees and sobbed like a lad to escape.”
He drew a stiff breath, his hand slipping away from her. She shivered at the loss, her entire body leaning toward his, seeking out the warmth she witnessed in his gaze.
“I didna know what love was and thought I could live very well without it. I swear that I would have married Gwen and never hesitated. But the first time I kissed ye, I understood the difference. There is no mistress waiting on me. No matter how much we quarrel we shall share a bed. I promise ye that.”
Shock held her in its grasp. Her mind raced in circles. She expected a mistress but not one to whom she would be thankful. His promise was arrogant, but so sweet that tears burned her eyes. The distance between them was suddenly too great to endure. She needed to be in contact with him, craved to feel his skin against her own again. It seemed an eternity since the last time they touched. She ached with the need.
Helena reached for him. He drew a sharp breath when her hands made connection with his chest. But she was mesmerized by the look in his eyes. Heat filled the dark centers. She smoothed her hands over his chest, delighting in the hard ridges of muscles hidden beneath his clothing. She moved closer and inhaled the scent of his skin. It was warm and very male. She didn’t pause to ponder why she thought he smelled male. For the moment there was only the way she felt and the fact that touching him filled her with happiness.
But she wanted to touch his skin. She cupped her hand behind his neck and pulled him toward her. He shivered when her lips made contact for the first time. She felt the delicate tremor running along his nape. It was a light kiss—only a soft pressing of her mouth against his throat—but the connection sent a bolt of awareness through her that did not stop until it reached every single one of her toes.
“Sweet lass.” He cupped her face, taking command of her. “Ye have no idea how much I enjoy yer touch.”
His voice was raspy with hunger. He held her head in place and angled his own before pressing a hard kiss on her lips. Passion licked down her body, making her long to be rid of her dress and stays. She wanted to press against him, their skin bare to increase the sensation, the intimacy.
She reached for the buttons on his doublet, working them loose. He lifted his head and watched her for a moment. The hands cradling her face slipped down to her shoulders. He found the tiny button that kept her partlet closed and opened it.
A little sigh of relief crossed her lips.
“I couldna agree with ye more.”
He turned her around, his hands seeking out the laces that held her dress closed. He was far more confident at the task than she was at removing his clothing. In a few tugs and pulls