He gazed at her, noticing her wide, blue eyes, her quivering lips, the need on her face. How would he feel standing in her shoes? A stranger in his home, no family to protect her, nothing familiar. And to make her situation even more complicated, an inexperienced maiden who only Jamie had kissed.
The answer came quickly. But not a humble one.
“Why are ye smiling like that?” she asked.
God’s bones, he couldna hide his pride. “I was thinking about ye and how it must feel to be away from home and here alone with me.”
“Aye? And what have ye concluded?”
“If I were ye, Helen of the Highlands, I’d fall in love with me, too.”
She ventured a sideways glance at him, quiet at first, as still as a winter night. Then, suddenly, she laughed so hard she had to sit and hug herself.
Jamie dinna see anything funny about what he had said. He frowned. “This is my reward for being honest with ye?”
Little by little she calmed down, until only a little gasp of breath escaped her lips. “I-I… Ye made me laugh harder than I ever have. Ye are the most arrogant rogue I have ever met, Jamie MacKay. Ye strut about this keep like a rooster surrounded by a flock of wanton hens.”
“A rooster?”
“Aye. With a red crown.”
Jamie smoothed a hand over his hair. “Ye doona like my red hair?”
She rolled her eyes. “Tis a part of ye.”
“What are ye saying to me, Helen?” He moved closer.
“Can ye nay figure it out? With yer abundant experiences with women? All the places ye’ve visited? All the men ye’ve fought and killed?”
Jamie knelt in front of her. “Is that what ye see me as?”
“I see what ye are in this moment. A man as afraid of what he feels as I am of what I feel. There is no difference between us—even if ye had bedded a queen in Constantinople, she couldna have touched yer heart as I have.”
Struck by her confidence and understanding, he simply gazed up at her in awe. This maiden had indeed brought him to his sinner’s knees. But he wouldna seek redemption yet, for he wanted to sin even more with her. To stare at her forever, to memorize everything about her beautiful face, to know what her future dreams were, and to set about making them all come true.
Jamie curled a finger under her chin and tilted her head from left to right. The candlelight illuminated her fair skin in the most appealing way. And her mane of gold-spun hair—this was the first time he’d seen it’s full length. It cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. He couldna resist the impulse to touch it and chose a curly tendril near her cheek. “Bòidheach,” he whispered. More beautiful than theRionnag Tuathor the deep-blue sea bordering the desert oasis of Constantinople.
“No man has ever called me beautiful before.” A single tear trailed down her cheek. He moved to catch it, but she blocked his hand. “Nay. I doona cry out of hurt but for joy.” She wiped the tear away on her own. “After my mother died, many women came and went who were tasked with tutoring me—some kind, some cruel. All taught me modesty, to never stare too long in the looking glass to avoid ending up a vain woman that no respectable man would want to marry.”
“Fools,” he said, caressing her cheek.
“Would ye rather me doubt the sincerity of yer praise or receive it as ye would—puffed up like a wee rooster?”
Jamie snorted, and then they both laughed.
He cradled her hands in his. “I owe ye an apology for going away without explanation.”
She appeared to weigh his words. “Why did ye leave?”
“There is something special between us, Helen. I canna say with certainty what it is or how long it will last, but I know my life will never be the same for it. Tis a hard thing for a man like me to admit. So instead of facing it, I decided to try and outrun it.”
“Did it work?”
“Not a damn bit.” He let go of her hands, raising her right wrist to his lips, kissing the inside of it, tasting the tender flesh.
She released a small moan from deep within her throat. So, he tested the depth of her passion by blazing a trail of feather-light kisses up her arm. She shivered and leaned forward in the chair.
“Jamie,” she breathed.
