Page 34

KERR WAS FINDING it hard to keep himself leashed.

After Rose had just sucked his rod like that, he could barely think straight. All he knew was that he had to give her the same pleasure.

He ached for her.

Spread out naked underneath him, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—all soft curves and smooth skin in the moonlight. She watched him now, her gaze fever-bright with need, her magnificent breasts heaving.

Kerr would get to those breasts later, but first, he would taste something else.

Spreading her wider still, he slid his hands under her backside. He then lifted her hips. And when his mouth found her, he was rewarded by a soft, keening cry. Rose trembled against him as he stroked her with his tongue.

Reaching down, she tangled her fingers in his hair, as he’d done with her, urging him on. Her lustiness inflamed him, as did her scent, her taste. He devoured her, holding her fast until she shattered against his tongue.

Breathing hard, he lowered her to the bed, crawling up over her trembling body so he could capture her lips with his.

He’d known from the moment she’d slipped into his bed that he’d get no rest tonight. He hadn’t planned on touching her, and indeed had decided he’d lie awake all night so long as she managed to get some sleep.

But then one thing had led to another—and now, here they were.

Mating her mouth with his, he stroked her breasts before cupping them in his hands and bringing them up so that he could lavish attention on each swollen tip.

She groaned his name softly as he tended her, her fingernails raking his back.

“Please, Kerr,” she gasped finally. “I need ye … inside me … now!”

“Aye, lass,” he replied, positioning his rod at her slick entrance. “I’ll not make ye beg twice.”

And with that, he slid deep into her, in one powerful thrust.

Rose’s cry echoed through the chamber. They were making too much noise, and although this broch had thick walls, someone was sure to hear. Yet Kerr didn’t care.

Let them hear. All that mattered to him right now was being buried to the hilt in this woman, losing himself in her. Bracing himself above her, and watching Rose’s face all the while, Kerr rode her in deep, slow thrusts.

Sweat coated his skin now, his breathing ragged. It was almost too much for him. Her tightness and heat, and the fluttering against his rod as she reached her peak, almost undid him.

Gasping his name, Rose arched up against him, her body shuddering. He felt a gush of wetness inside her and pushed himself up, parting her thighs wider so he could plow her deeper still.

It was too much. His self-control snapped, and his release barreled into him.

Kerr’s back snapped rigid, his head falling back as pleasure pulsed up through his body from his groin, and the world went dark for a few moments.

“Do ye think ye shall be able to sleep now?” The question was a cheeky one, yet Rose hadn’t been able to resist it. In the aftermath of their loving, she and Kerr lay spooned together, her bottom nestled into his groin.

Kerr’s laugh rumbled against her back. “Aye … like a bairn.”

Rose smiled, her throat thickening at the depth of emotion she felt for this man. His touch. The sound of his voice. The way he made her feel both free and protected. He was all she needed in this world.

“Thank ye, Kerr,” she whispered.

“What for?”

“For being ye .” She swallowed as a lump lodged in her throat. What was wrong with her these days? She could hardly get through a sentence without wanting to weep. “I’m lucky indeed.”

And she was, for she’d found a man who loved and protected her yet allowed her the freedom to be herself.

They were sure to have their disagreements—for they could both be bullheaded at times—but she felt safe with him.

Even after they were wed, she’d continue her work with Eara.

Unlike her poor, downtrodden mother—who’d run after her menfolk until she was too ill to leave her bed—Rose would have a life of her own.

Kerr’s hold on her tightened. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, “Ye are all I’ve ever wanted, Rose. I love ye with a fierceness that scares me.”

“And I love ye,” she whispered back. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel so at one with the world.”

It was true. Even though there were many things that gave her satisfaction, especially her work with Eara, she sometimes felt as if she was fighting with life. Yet, there wasn’t any struggle now.

“Neither did I,” he admitted, his mouth curving. “I thought I was destined to pine for ye for the rest of my days.”

A soft hoot intruded then, and Rose twisted around to see a familiar outline sitting on the window ledge illuminated by the hoary light of the moon.

“Hazel,” she gasped. “How did ye find me?”

The owl made a soft cooing noise in response.

“Well, that’s settled then,” Kerr said, amusement lacing his voice. “The owl has also come to live here along with its mistress.”

Rose shifted, meeting Kerr’s gaze. “Really? Ye won’t confine her to the mews?”

He snorted. “Of course not … Hazel is welcome to roost in here during the day.”

A wry smile tugged at Rose’s lips. “I warn ye, she makes a mess … what with her feathers and the pellets she spits up.”

Kerr winced. “Och, lass, don’t make me regret it already.”

“Ye won’t,” she assured him, leaning down and brushing her lips over his.

“Here, see if ye can slide this into her hair … I’ve snipped off the thorns so it shouldn’t draw blood.”

Eara handed Bonnie the velvety red rose, one of a bunch she’d brought from her garden, before meeting Rose’s eye. Her friend then winked. “A rose for a rose.”

“Aye,” Bonnie replied, threading the stalk into the elaborate coil of hair she’d piled onto the crown of Rose’s head. “It’s perfect … look.”

Smiling, Rose shifted her gaze right to where Bonnie now held up a looking glass. They sat in her wardrobe, a small chamber where Lady Mackay kept her clothing and jewelry.

The reflection that greeted Rose made her breathing catch.

She hardly recognized herself.

For years, she’d dressed in plain kirtles and pulled her hair back from her face so that it wouldn’t annoy her while she worked.

But this afternoon, she wore one of Bonnie’s surcotes.

They were of a similar build, although Rose was a bit taller than the laird’s wife, so they’d let down the gown’s hem.

The surcote was a deep red, the same color as the rose in her hair, while underneath, she wore a sea-blue kirtle. She’d never realized she had a heart-shaped face before or that her skin was unblemished. Her eyes were large and the color of pine, fringed with dark lashes.

“I can’t believe it,” she breathed. “I look …” Her voice trailed off as she struggled to find the right words.

“Beautiful,” Eara finished the sentence for her. “Ye always have been … it’s just that ye haven’t had a looking glass to view yerself in before.”

Rose’s throat thickened at these words, her vision misting. She’d never been pampered like this before or been the center of attention. It was almost overwhelming.

“Eara’s right,” Bonnie murmured. “Ye are lovely, and Kerr will swallow his tongue when he sees ye.” Lady Mackay then moved over to a shelf, where she picked up a small clay bottle.

“Now all that’s needed is the right scent.

” She unstoppered the bottle and waved it under Rose’s nose. “What do ye think?”

Rose inhaled the sweet, musky scent, sighing in pleasure. “It’s wonderful … what is it?”

“Damascus Rose,” Bonnie replied with a grin. “Iver gave it to me for my birthday. Will ye wear it?”

Rose nodded, touched that Bonnie was being so generous with her clothing and perfume. “This is very kind of ye, My Lady,” she murmured.

“Please, call me Bonnie … it’s only fitting since we are soon to be sisters.”

Rose’s pulse quickened. Downstairs in the hall, the others would be readying themselves for the wedding ceremony. True to his word, Kerr had sent out riders to pick up Kenna and Ailis, and they’d fetched Eara from the village.

Everyone Rose cared for would be present.

Favoring Bonnie with a warm smile in response, Rose then turned to Eara. Her friend watched her with bright eyes.

“I will never forget what ye did, Eara,” she murmured. She hadn’t thanked Eara properly the day before, yet she was determined to let her friend know just how much she appreciated her quick response. “Ever.”

Eara snorted, even as her cheeks reddened.

“Well, I could hardly stand by and let the rabble kill ye, could I?” Her face tightened then, and she swallowed convulsively.

“In truth, I feel a terrible guilt, Rose, for I heard Father Gregor preaching to them all in the village square the day before. I told myself I’d go up to the broch in the morning and tell Lady Bonnie and ye about it …

and I intended to.” Her voice turned husky then, as she concluded. “But I was too late.”

Rose stepped forward, taking her friend by the hands. “No, ye weren’t.”

Eara shook her head. “I should have rushed up to the broch, the moment I heard him speaking ill of ye … but instead, I was more concerned with getting my work done.” Her friend’s voice wobbled then. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rose replied, squeezing Eara’s hands tightly. “It changes nothing. Ye still saved my life.”

“Aye, lass,” Bonnie said, moving close and placing a reassuring hand on Eara’s shoulder. “Don’t take responsibility for the wrongdoings of others.”

A soft knock on the door to the wardrobe intruded then. “Come in,” Bonnie called.

The door cracked open, and a tall, broad-shouldered figure stood there. Rose was used to seeing Brodie Mackay dusted in soot, wearing his smith’s apron and a sweat-soaked lèine. However, he’d clearly bathed and changed into his best clothing for this afternoon’s ceremony.

His hair still curled against his scalp from his recent bath, and he wore a crisp white lèine and chamois braies tucked into polished boots.

His hazel gaze swept over the women before a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Kerr’s starting to get a little twitchy, Rose,” he greeted her. “Ye had better present yerself downstairs before he thinks ye’ve changed yer mind.”

Rose smiled back at him, even as nervousness tightened her stomach. This was real. She was about to become Kerr’s wife.

“Aye, Brodie,” she said, releasing Eara’s hand and moving forward, taking the arm he offered. “Let’s not keep him waiting any longer.”

Rose’s breathing caught as she stepped into the hall.

She’d been here a few times over the years, for audiences with the laird and the odd Yuletide celebration. Nonetheless, she’d never seen the hall look like this.

Despite the short notice, the women of Dun Ugadale had worked miracles, festooning the walls and rafters with garlands of roses. Banks of candles flickered along the walls, and the tables had been cleared away so that a crowd could gather.

All gazes swiveled to Rose. Among the crowd, she spied Kenna and Ailis. They both grinned at her. Rose tried to smile back, yet she suddenly felt uncertain under so many stares. Memories of what she’d suffered the day before resurfaced, and her step faltered.

“I have ye, lass,” Brodie murmured. “Just keep walking.”

The smith’s solid presence at her side settled Rose’s nerves, and she nodded. She appreciated that, without her needing to explain anything, he understood. His perception surprised her.

“Just keep yer eyes on Kerr,” Brodie advised her then. “He’s all that matters now.”

Rose nodded once more, her gaze sliding past where Iver Mackay stood resplendent in his clan sash upon the dais as he waited to perform the ceremony, to where Kerr waited at the foot of the platform.

The breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding rushed out of her.

Dressed in a black velvet lèine and leather trews, his white-blond hair brushing his collar, he was so handsome it made her chest ache.

And he was hers.

Their gazes fused, the stare drawing out as, around them, the hall hushed.

Suddenly, the busy hall disappeared, along with Rose’s nerves. Brodie was right. This was their day. Nothing else mattered.

He favored her with a slow smile then, one that made her heart start to kick against her ribs. Moving forward at Brodie’s side, she started across the floor, through the crowd that parted for her, toward her husband-to-be.

Toward her future.