“Aye.”
He let the clump of snow fall to the ground. “Ye are a curious woman.”
“I believe in ye, Jamie.”
“I’d hoped for such words, Helen of the Highlands.”
What was going on inside his warrior mind? He looked so different, so out of sorts. The shock of gaining a son could be to blame. But who could look at Ramsey’s sweet face and not fall in love instantly? Nay, something else troubled him. “Why?”
“Because I have something to tell ye, to ask ye.”
Helen took a deep, steadying breath and sat down on her favorite boulder. Better to sit than fall down if he told her something that made her unsteady on her feet. She folded her hands in her lap and focused all of her attention on him. “Tell me anything.”
“I’ve spent enough time with ye to know that ye are the finest woman I have ever met. Kind and lovelier than any lass. And yer kisses… God, Helen, yer kisses light my soul on fire. I canna think about anything else. Just when the next opportunity will present itself when I can drag ye to that damned storeroom and taste yer sweet mouth again.”
If that dinna steal her breath, nothing would. She sighed, wet heat forming between her thighs. How could a man’s lust-filled words make her body respond in such a way?
“I’m nay a patient man, Helen. Not even a good one, compared to Alex or Petro. I’m a beast—have thought about bedding ye since that night in the great hall when we both stared at each other.”
“Is that why ye asked me about fate?”
“Aye.”
“And how do ye know I wasna thinking the same thing that night?”
He chuckled softly. “Ye? I wouldna believe it if ye said ye were.”
“I was,” she confessed.
Jamie’s steady stare intensified as he shifted on his feet. She gazed at his strong legs, narrow waist, and broad shoulders. He exuded raw power and strength, intelligence and danger. If she had to face him on the battlefield, she’d faint.
“Lass…”
“Jamie… speak plainly to me. I doona understand.”
He stepped in front of her, gathered both her hands in his, then dropped to his knees. “Lady Helen Sutherland, will ye marry me?”
Her heart nearly burst with joy. “Marry ye?” she repeated.
“Aye.”
What about her father? Her supposed betrothal to Laird Munroe? How could she promise to be his wife if she wasna sure where she’d be tomorrow? “Jamie. Marrying me is dangerous, I think. There is no guarantee that my father will accept ye. And what if Laird Munroe…”
“I’ll kill him before he ever lays a hand on ye, Helen. Believe me, no one will ever take ye against yer will. If ye love me…”
“I do.”
“Ye do?”
“Hopelessly,” she confessed.
“I love ye, lass. More than I have words for.”
She jumped up, nearly knocking him over. “Aye,” she said. “I will marry ye.”
He stood and scooped her up, slanting his mouth over hers.
Helen could kiss him forever, love him forever. She broke away, gazing up at him.
