Page 120 of Every Day of My Life

He took his shoes off and flopped onto the sofa, sighing deeply at a day well lived and a hunt successfully concluded, though he imagined he would need to discuss the details with his beloved when she wasn’t surrounded by people who seemed genuinely delighted to have added her to their midst.

And speaking of people who were delighted to know her, Jamie had been the object of a phone call from her earlier where she’d assured him that she would be well looked after—and chaperoned—so there was no cause for worry. Oliver hadlistened to Jamie sharpening his sword when he’d been handed the phone, then had a laugh for his trouble before Jamie had simply hung up on him.

Warning heeded, though, because he was no fool.

He also had very good ears which alerted him to the fact that someone was tiptoeing down the stairs. He lifted his head to peek over the back of the couch and saw that it was his lady, clad in new pajamas which he suspected were courtesy of Emily and her unholy relationship with couriers with shopping bags.

He was beginning to suspect she’d had a bigger hand in his torment than he’d been willing to credit her with.

He smiled up at Mairead who sat down on one end of the couch and patted her lap. He supposed that was innocent enough, so he made use of her leg as a pillow and suppressed a sigh when she began to drag her fingers through his hair.

“We’ve done this before,” she said at one point.

He nodded.

She continued to smooth his hair back from his forehead. “And what did you say to me?”

“Something I meant then and mean now.”

She smiled and waited.

He looked at her for another moment or two, then sat up, turned around and leaned forward to kiss her softly.

“I love you.”

She closed her eyes briefly, then looked at him. “I love you.”

He kissed her again with a bit less haste and repeated the sentiment in French.

She laughed softly and returned the favor, then smiled and put her hand against his cheek. “Very romantic.”

“I know other languages.” He paused. “I might only know how to ask for the loo in them, though.”

“Less romantic,” she noted, “but still charming.”

He smiled, kissed her again whilst she still found him charming, then wrapped his arms around her and encouraged her to make herself comfortable. “Did you look at your manuscript yet?”

She shook her head. “I’m not certain I’m ready to, though I would go in Cameron’s office and have a look if you wanted to.”

“Mair, it’s your book,” he said seriously. “You read it or not, as it pleases you.”

“So much freedom,” she said lightly. “It might go to my head and leave me running wild.”

“In any particular direction?” he asked casually.

She tilted her head back and smiled at him. “Do you have a preference?”

“Yes, Mairead,” he said seriously. “Actually, I do.”

She kissed his cheek, then smiled at him. “Then let us say that if I were to run off somewhere that you happened not to be, I would leave you a map.”

“The lads have corrupted you.”

“They have,” she agreed. She looked at the fire for a bit, then at him. “Tell me about a few of your noteworthy adventures, Oliver,” she said quietly, “whilst the fire is warm and we are safe.”

He gathered her close, wrapped both his arms around her and pulled her back to rest against his chest. “Where shall I start?”

“With your most recent piece of business.” She glanced at him. “Sunny says you ran over a wee granny’s treasured piece of shrubbery, but I can’t believe it.”