The world narrowed to that single question.
She did not hesitate.
“Yes,” she said, the word fierce and certain. “I don’t care what he says. Or anyone else. I’m yours, Kenneth. I always have been.”
Something broke open in his expression. At first there was disbelief and then, as understanding dawned, that gave way to something raw and unguarded, showing her his whole heart – and she knew then, it truly belonged to her.
He stepped closer, rain streaming down his hair, his breathing an unsteady rasp.
The storm rose around them, wind tearing at their cloaks and his plaid, the sea roaring below as if bearing witness. They stood so close, desperately wet, shivering – whether from cold or from their deep feeling for each other, it was impossible for Selene to say – her heart was racing and all she could think of was his lips on hers and the wonder of his touch.
Kenneth lifted a hand and cupped her face, his thumb brushing rain from her cheek. “Say that once more,” he murmured.
She said again, “I am yours,” although there was no need. He knew the truth of it.
He gazed deep into her eyes, and a shiver went through her as he lowered his lips to hers and she lifted her head to meet them.
This time there was no restraint between them. This was no gentle, polite kiss, but one born of despair and longing, of stolen moments and heartfelt choices. And long held passion and desire.
Selene grasped his shirt, holding him tight, pouring every unspoken fear and hope into the press of her mouth against his. His touch was everything that made her heart beat faster and her spirits sing, joyous and passionate at the same time.
Heedless of the rain pouring over them in torrents neither could pull away, until the overriding need to breathe, relentlessly forced them apart.
When they parted, breathless and laughing softly from the sheer delight they each took in the other, Kenneth tugged the tail of his plaid free and wrapped it around her shoulders, drawing her close beneath its shelter.
“We should take cover,” he said, amusement threading his voice. “Before the guards decide tae interrupt us again.”
Still smiling, they slipped back into the castle, dripping water onto the flagstones, their laughter barely constrained as they retraced their steps through the darkened halls.
Selene flung herself up the stairs still clutching Kenneth’s hand. She was certain now of her heart’s delight and she wanted him more than she’d ever dreamed could be possible.
At the door of his chamber, he paused and turned to her.
“I will understand if discretion persuades ye tae return tae yer chamber.” He pushed open the door and placed a foot inside the room. “If ye stay with me, it should only be that ye wish it fer yerself. Nae tae please me desire fer ye.”
She stood beside him in the doorway, so close that she could feel his breath and the heat of his body and smell the rain and his wet plaid.
She shook her head. “No, Kenneth. I have no wish to be any other place than beside you. I have made up my mind. I do not care for wagging tongues or the condemnation of my brother-in-law.” A shy smile quirked her lips. “I wish to be with you. Only you.”
She pushed past him and walked into his bedchamber, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
His dark gaze was fixed on her as he stepped behind her into the room. His hands trembled slightly as he peeled off his wet cloak and firmly closed the door.
He reached for her, folding her into his strong arms and they kissed again, their clothes plastered to their bodies, their hair dripping. Little rivulets ran down their cheeks while pools formed at their feet, neither of them giving a fig for the state they were in.
They took their leisure with the kiss, tasting, exploring, discovering, reveling in the sureness of the love they held for each other. It was only when they broke apart that the cold crept into Selene’s bones and she began shivering.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Come, lass, warm yerself by the fire.” Kenneth led her by the hand to stand at the hearth.
He stoked the fire and threw on more logs. Once the flames were leaping high and the fire roaring, he turned to Selene, who was standing close in the glow of the firelight, arms wrapped around herself and her teeth chattering.
“’Tis time fer ye tae shed those sopping clothes, me lady. It will ne’er dae fer ye tae catch yer death.”
Already unbuttoning his jacket, he could scarcely contain a grin as he divested himself of the wet garment and reached for the brooch holding her cloak together at her neck. Unfastening it, he tossed it and the cloak aside, leaving Selene standing only in her night-shift and robe.
She kicked off her wet slippers as Kenneth untied the cord holding her robe, peeled it from her shoulders and let it fall to her feet.
