Unlacing the Lady in Waiting Page 5

  She met him every inch, every tumultuous emotion and fiery burst of pleasure.

  “Helen!” he shouted, and her name had never sounded so glorious to her. His whole body arched back, taut as a drawn bowstring, and she looked up to him to see the darkness in his face as he released inside of her.

  She was close, too; she knew it. The pressure that had been building up in her was expanding, growing, like the whole sun unfolding in her heart. Light seemed to shoot out of her, her very toes and fingertips, to envelop them in its fiery heat.

  He reached between them to rub hard at that tiny spot inside of her again, the one she loved, and that touch sent her soaring. She shot straight up into the sky, consumed by her own light.

  He fell to the bed beside her, and they lay there for long moments with their legs entwined. Helen closed her eyes and all she could hear was his breath and the thud of her heart in her breast.

  The heart she had given to him.

  A small smile touched her lips, and she was amazed at the peace that thought gave her. There was no fear, no uncertainty. She was where she was meant to be.

  As she drifted slowly down into sleep, she felt his hands touch her waist gently and turn her pliant body onto her side. He curved himself around her with the warmth and safety of his body. His knees tucked under hers, his arms around her. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, and she slept.

  Chapter Five

  James buried his face in the rumpled satin of Helen’s hair and inhaled deeply, longingly, as if he could draw her into himself and hold her there, where she could never escape again. Where he knew she would always be his. They had belonged together from the beginning.

  He studied her face, so soft and peaceful in sleep, a faint smile on her lips, and he knew he had never so completely lost himself in a woman before. She had made him wild, feral with need as he drove himself deeper and deeper into her body and saw the passion in her eyes as she rose up to meet him.

  That kiss in the garden that had haunted him all these years and driven him to claim her for himself, it was nothing compared to what had happened between them tonight. He had thought he could possess her, make her admit she had been wrong to leave him. Yet she had reached into his very soul and claimed so much more.

  She had claimed all he was and made him hers.

  She sighed in her sleep, and James slid one hand up to cradle her breast on his palm. She was so warm, so soft, nestling in his arms as if she had always been there. And he intended to see that was where she would always stay.

  He pressed an openmouthed kiss to the nape of her neck, and lightly swept his tongue over her skin as if to mark his claim. She sighed again and arched back against him. Her bare bottom pressed to his groin, and he felt himself stir to hard life again.

  She seemed to feel it, too, for she moved restlessly. Her heart beat faster under his hand.

  Over her shoulder he saw her eyelashes quiver, a frown whisper over her brow.

  “Shh,” he said low against her ear. “Don’t move. You’re still dreaming.”

  She relaxed a bit, but he felt her tremble. He eased her onto her back amid the rumpled blankets and lowered himself over her.

  Her lashes quivered again, and her lips parted. James wrapped her wrists in his fingers and held her to the bed.

  “Only dreaming,” he said, and smiled when she whimpered.

  He kissed the sensitive hollow of her throat where she liked to be touched, swirling the tip of his tongue there to taste her. Her fingers flexed under his hold. His open mouth traced the elegant line of her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder.

  She moved again, and he nipped lightly at her skin to keep her still. She gasped as his whiskered cheek brushed over her skin and left a trace of a blush behind.

  He kissed around the soft, enticing swell of her breast, with special attention to the tiny freckle hidden in its curve. Her nipple stiffened, but he took his time to kiss his way closer and closer to that pouting, berry-sweet tip. He had waited so long for her, and she was even better than in his dreams. Even more perfect. He intended to enjoy her.

  He trailed the tip of his tongue to her other breast and kissed it softly, slowly, until he heard her cry out low in her throat. Finally he gave them both what they longed for and closed his mouth hard over her nipple and sucked. His hand covered her other breast and plucked at it.

  “James,” she said, all that longing in one word. Her fingers caressed the back of his head and held him against her as he tasted her beautiful breasts.

  Her hold convulsed on his head, and he felt that burning need grow again deep inside of him. He had thought he could savor her, drive her made with need, but he was the one becoming a mad person. The taste, the scent of her filled him with blind longing.

  His open mouth traced down her body as if he would devour her. He licked at her navel, the flare of her hip. She twisted, as if to bring the core of her womanhood up to him, and he could sense her arousal. Her desire for him.

  It made every scrap of civilization fall away from him, and he knelt between her parted thighs. He slid two fingers into her soft heat and found her wet with desire for him. He used those fingers to part her glistening folds and flicked his tongue over the surface. She tasted like paradise, opening before him.

  She screamed aloud, and he felt the quiver of her intimate flesh on his eager mouth. He kissed her, tasted her deeply, until she arched above him and he tasted her pleasure.

  As she drifted down, James kissed her lightly on the inside of her thigh, the curve of her knee, her ankle. The arch of her foot. He lay down on his back at the end of the bed, his arm over his eyes as her leg curved over his chest.

  “You must be a sorcerer,” she murmured.

  James gave a hard chuckle. “If I was, I would have woven a spell to keep you with me.”

  “You need no spell for that.”

  He propped himself on his side with his elbow to study her. She lolled back on the pillows, her hair tumbled over her naked shoulders. She gave him a soft smile.

  “Then tell me how to do it,” he said. “Tell me how to keep you.”

  She nudged him with her foot. “Oh, with your oh-so-talented hands. And your mouth. And your…”

  A blush spread over her face, and James laughed.

  She shook her head. “There is nowhere else I want to be.”

  He caressed her foot with his fingertips, and raised it to his mouth to kiss that graceful arch. “And what of tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “It will be dawn soon. And the queen will expect to hear my petition later today.”

  Helen sat up against the pillows and her foot trailed away from him. James swung around to sit beside her, not touching but so close she could feel his heat.

  “What petition?” she said.

  “I will ask her to honor our betrothal agreement and allow us to marry.” He studied her carefully, trying to see her reaction, but she just watched him in return.

  “Do you still want to marry me, James?” she asked quietly.

  James slowly reached for her hand and turned it over on his palm. “Surely you know it is all I want. I’ve wanted you for my own for far too long. But there is one thing I want more.”

  “And what is that?” she whispered.

  He pressed his lips to the hollow of her palm and breathed in her perfume. “I want your happiness, Helen. I have long wanted you, but I want you to be happy more. If you would rather marry someone else, some Frenchman less—how did you say it? Barbaric? Then I will not present my petition to the queen. I will let you go.”

  In answer, Helen wrapped her arms around his neck and slid onto his lap, her legs around his waist. “I think it’s rather too late for that. Because, James McKerrigan, I find I am quite in love with you. And as you have rather thoroughly ravished me tonight, you must see to my honor. And I must see to yours.”

  His eyes shot up to her face, to the smile that lit up her face like the summer sunshine. “You love
me?” he said hoarsely. “Truly?”

  “Truly,” she said, but a shadow seemed to touch her lips. “But if you do not—if tonight was…”

  “I love you, too, Helen,” he said, all in a rush. He had fought in battles, ridden in dangerous cattle raids, but this took every ounce of courage, far beyond any fight. Aye, he did love her. More than life itself.

  Her smile returned, and it was all the reward he would ever need.

  “Then that is all we need,” she said. “Say it again!”

  James laughed and kissed her, over and over again. “I love you, Helen Frasier. You’ll never escape me again.”

  Enjoy more passion through the ages with the sensual Harlequin Historical UNDONE titles on sale now:

  The Wanton Governess by Barbara Monajem

  Auctioned Virgin to Seduced Bride by Louise Allen

  A Compromised Innocent by Elaine Golden

  The Sheikh’s Impetuous Love-Slave by Marguerite Kaye

  Deliciously Debauched by the Rake by Ann Lethbridge

  Nights with the Outlaw by Lauri Robinson

  The Highlander and the Wolf Princess by Marguerite Kaye

  Girl in the Beaded Mask by Amanda McCabe

  Bound to the Wolf Prince by Marguerite Kaye

  Craving something a little longer? Find more historical romantic adventure from Harlequin Historical at www.Harlequin.com or your local bookstore.

  Interested in writing for Harlequin Historical UNDONE? Send your submission to undone@harlequin.ca.

  Amanda McCabe wrote her first romance novel at the age of sixteen in Algebra class, an epic starring all her friends as characters! That story will never be published (and she nearly failed Algebra), but now she’s the RITA-nominated, award-winning author of many other books and novellas. She lives in Oklahoma with two cats, a Pug, and a bossy miniature Poodle, and loves dance classes, collecting cheesy travel souvenirs, and watching the Food Network—even though she doesn’t cook. Visit her at www.ammandamccabe.com for Behind the Book information, contests, and upcoming releases, and at riskyregencies.blogspot.com.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0743-1

  Unlacing the Lady in Waiting

  Copyright © 2011 by Ammanda McCabe

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com