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  “Aye. The whole clan seems to approve of our marriage.” He eyed the great hall and all the love and care that had gone in to decorating it with wreaths and dried flowers, the fresh tapers on every table, the generous amount of food Alex had ordered prepared—wild boar and venison, clams and fish, vegetables and dried fruits, bread and pastries, and the best wine. “I doona know how to thank ye for all of this.”

  “Love her well,” Keely said. “And the bairn—love him.”

  “I already do, Keely.” He kissed John and Rebecca’s heads, then Keely’s cheek. “Makes me verra happy to see the bairns here for the wedding.”

  “As ye requested, only close family and the soldiers were invited. I know ye are anxious to get her home, to start yer new lives together.”

  Alex joined them. “I just left yer bride,” he said with a smile.

  “Are ye satisfied that I dinna force her into marrying me?’

  “Tis my obligation in the absence of her family to advise her.”

  “And what did she say to ye?”

  “That she canna wait to be yer wife and understands the risks. She is a brave lass, and I admire her willingness to stand up to her father. Few lasses would do so. Though I can think of one.” Alex gazed at Keely and grinned.

  His wife handed Rebecca off to him. “If I hadna defied my father, we wouldna be here now and these babes wouldna be ours.”

  Alex wrapped a protective arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulled her close for a kiss. “Tis yer spirit that will make our children successful in life.”

  Father Michael arrived and greeted all the guests.

  “Are ye ready?” Alex asked.

  “Aye,” Jamie said.

  Everyone took their respective places. Alex stood with Jamie, and Nudar and Ramsey were seated at a place of honor by the hearth. Tonight, Jamie would do the two most important things a man could, marry the woman he loved and claim his son before God and his clan. He waited nervously for Helen to appear. Petro and Miran entered the hall first, followed by Helen.

  She wore an elegant, green satin gown edged with velvet and ermine. As he’d requested, her hair had been left down, combed to a high luster. A strand of pearls graced her neck and he recognized the Sutherland signet ring on her left hand. It must be her way of keeping her family close, even though she was angry with her father for treating her as nothing more than chattel.

  In time, if Jamie could, he’d seek peace with the earl on behalf of Helen and his clan. He dinna care about her dowry, just her future happiness with him and his son.

  Petro joined Jamie and Helen’s hands, then kissed her cheek before he stepped away.

  Father Michael made the sign of the cross above their heads and said a prayer.

  Though Jamie knew what he was expected to say, the traditional vows and the giving of the ring, all he could do was stare at his beautiful bride. So enamored was he, by the time the priest pronounced them man and wife, he nearly forgot to kiss her.

  Alex slapped him on the back and whispered, “If ye doona kiss her, I will.”

  Jamie did just that, taking her in his arms and showing the world how much he loved her. The passionate kiss earned the delight and approval of the crowd. And when he released her, Father Michael once again prayed and then blessed them.

  “May the Lord watch over ye, protect ye, have mercy upon ye, and breathe light and love into yer marriage bed.”

  Then Jamie signaled for Nudar to bring Ramsey forward.

  The old woman stepped before Father Michael. The priest lifted the child from her arms.

  “What child is this?” the priest asked.

  “My son, Ramsey Jaleel MacKay,” Jamie answered.

  “Do ye swear before God and yer clan that he is yer bairn?”

  “Aye.”

  “Do ye promise to raise him in the church, to fear the Almighty, and love the Highlands?”

  “Aye,” Jamie said.

  Father Michael looked about the crowded hall. “And does the clan accept this child as one of their own? Promise to love and protect him if anything should befall his parents?”

  “We do,” the throng replied in unison.

  “Then I bless ye, Ramsey Jaleel MacKay.” Father Michael made the sign of the cross upon the babe’s forehead, chin, and each cheek and said, “An t-Athair, am Mac, agus an Spiorad Naomh.”

  Jamie repeated his words. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit.”

  Father Michael handed the child to Jamie, and he kissed his son over and over, fascinated by his big blue eyes and red hair.

  “He is ever yer son,” Helen said, gripping one of Ramsey’s chubby hands.

  “And ever yers, too.”

  A while later, after the children were abovestairs, Jamie danced with his new wife—holding her close and desperate to take her to their bridal chamber. After the music ended, he admired the circlet of gold on her finger; the ring had belonged to his mother.

  “If ye wish for another ring,” Jamie began.

  “Nay.” Helen tenderly kissed his lips. “I will never take it off.”

  “I’m a verra happy man, lass.”

  They sat at the high table with Alex and Keely and feasted and drank, enjoying the laughter and music. And just when Jamie was about to carry Helen through the hall and up the stairs, Alex stood and called for silence.

  “I thank ye all for attending this celebration. Master Jamie is my favored kinsman, once my heir, and the best captain any laird can ask for.”

  The men banged their hands on the tabletops in agreement.

  “I never thought I’d meet the lass who would win his heart. But…” Alex acknowledged Helen with a gracious smile. “Lady Helen is a rare woman.”

  The guests clapped and raised their cups to Helen.

  “As is customary,” Alex said, “the laird should present a gift to his highest-ranked captain on his wedding night. A harder task than ye might think, for my cousin doesna need silver or gold, or a house, sheep, or anything else a man might require to start a new life.”

  “Did ye advise him on how to please his bride?” someone called from the lower tables.

  Jamie laughed.

  “With unanimous approval of the council and in the best interest of Clan MacKay, Jamie, ye have my blessing to form another branch of our clan. Ye’ve taken on a heavier burden than most men, but if the north is to be tamed and farmed, there is no better Highlander born for it.”

  Sweat broke out on Jamie’s palms as he slowly stood, staring disbelievingly at his wife, then at his cousin. “Alex?”

  “Aye.”

  What should he say? He hadna expected this so soon.

  “Are ye truly speechless?” Alex teased. “The lad who’s had something to say about everything since we were children?”

  Sometimes words weren’t necessary. Jamie pulled his cousin into a hug, forever grateful for Alex making his da’s dream, and now his own dream, come true.

  Alex pulled back so he could see Jamie. “There’s a contract to sign in the morn. Important decisions to be made. We must work together, protect our people while expanding our power wisely.”

  Jamie gripped his cousin’s forearm. “We are family, nothing will ever change that.”

  “Stay with us for a couple of weeks, then take yer bonny bride home.”

  *

  As soon as Jamie carried Helen over the bedchamber threshold, he set her down and bolted the door. How long had he waited for this moment, to be truly alone with her? Only now, she belonged to him. Lady Helen was his wife … his wife. It hadna quite sunk in. He rested his forehead against the door.

  “Jamie? What are ye doing?”

  “Thinking about all the blessings I received tonight.”

  “Ye are an honorable man, deserving of everything God has given ye.”

  He turned around. Her crown of golden hair, intent blue eyes, the neck he found himself always wanting to kiss, her perfect lips… “Have I told ye how beautiful ye are?”
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  “Aye,” she said. “And I could say the same about ye.”

  “Ye think me beautiful?” He moved deeper inside the bedchamber, the room he’d occupied since he was a lad.

  A pleasant fire burned in the hearth, and someone had been kind enough to set a tray of food and a pitcher of ale on the bedside table. Miran had moved Helen’s things over from her bedchamber earlier. They would share this space whenever they visited the MacKay keep.

  “I think I am the luckiest woman in the world,” Helen said.

  Jamie went to her and pulled her into his arms. He rested his chin atop her head, breathing in her honeyed scent. Irresistible desire told him to undress her now, to ravish her with kisses and heated caresses, to lick her from head to toe, to make her moan his name and quiver in his arms until the morn.

  “Helen…”

  She gazed up at him.

  “Ye know what is expected of ye—what yer wifely duties are?”

  “Aye,” she said, holding his gaze. “Keely and Miran spoke with me. Even Nudar, bless her, gave me much-appreciated advice.”

  Being told and doing were two different things. “Are ye afraid of me?”

  “Afraid?” She laughed. “I’ve been in yer arms many times, Jamie MacKay. If anyone has prepared my mind and body for this night, ye have.”

  The sheer honesty of her words and the determined look on her face made him want her more. He leaned in and kissed her full lips. “I will take ye home soon. But tonight…”

  Helen turned about and lifted her hair so Jamie had access to the laces on the back of her gown. With unsteady hands, he slowly loosened the laces, savoring every moment. He pulled the delicate material down her shoulders, exposing her pale flesh. He kissed her left shoulder, then the right, and she shivered.

  Then Helen faced him again, and finished taking her gown off, hanging it on the back of the closest chair. She stood in her shift and silk slippers.

  “Now ye,” she said.

  Jamie unpinned his clan brooch at the shoulder, loosening his tartan, then removing it completely. Now he stood before her in his tunic and leather boots. His beautiful wife wrapped her arms around him, pressing her soft body against his. He cupped her breasts and groaned. No woman had ever felt so right in his arms. Twas time to take her to bed and show her how much he loved and wanted her.

  “Wrap yer legs around my waist, lass.” He lifted her, and Helen did as he asked.

  He carried her to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress with her propped on his lap. She nipped his lower lip and smiled as he went in for a kiss, their tongues tangling together with renewed hunger.

  He’d chosen a fiery lass to take as wife. It excited him, knowing he’d be the one to show her what a man and woman shared in the bedchamber, the one to awaken her deepest desires. Her skin was soft and smooth, and he slid his palms down her arms, over her back, and ended on her shapely arse. She clung to him, their kiss intensifying, her body moving rhythmically with his.

  They fell back together, and Jamie rolled her onto her back, staring down at her, loving her with his eyes.

  “Ye are perfect, Helen of the Highlands.”

  “Thank ye,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “I love the color of yer hair, Jamie. It reminds me of fire.”

  “The one ye lit inside me, lass.” He found wet heat between her slim thighs and gently massaged her sex, watching with fascination as she closed her eyes and arched her back.

  Stretching out beside her, he kissed her breast, sucking on her dusk-colored nipple. Because she was not a shy lass, Helen’s hands wandered freely across his body, stopping short of his erection. She stroked the areas around it, smiling.

  “The hair around yer manhood is the same color as the hair on yer head.”

  “Aye,” he said, sucking in a ragged breath, his patience near breaking. He needed to be inside her, joined as man and wife. “That fire runs deep, lass. Verra deep.”

  “Is it painful?” She eyed his manhood.

  “Give me yer hand, Helen. Doona be afraid to touch me.” He guided her fingers to his shaft. “Squeeze gently, slide yer fingers over it.”

  After she tried a couple of times, he let go, and Helen continued to stroke. He groaned and closed his eyes. Though she was inexperienced, the magic in her fingertips drove him crazy. Love had altered the way he felt about bedsport. He wanted to please her, to give her anything she wanted. She moved, and Jamie opened his eyes in time to see her about to kiss the tip of his manhood.

  “Lass…”

  Too late, she kissed her way from the tip to the base, caressing him at the same time, her other hand tickling his stomach.

  “Helen,” he gasped. “How did ye know…”

  She slid the head of his manhood into her mouth.

  Unable to control himself any longer, Jamie practically tackled her, pinning her underneath him, raising her arms above her head, and ravaging her mouth with his tongue and teeth.

  She squirmed and bucked against him, and Jamie let one of his hands drift between her legs to find her sensitive nub. Slick and ready. Jamie sat up, scooted to the edge of the mattress, and removed his tunic and boots. Somewhere between the floor and bed, her slippers had fallen off, but he’d be damned if any barriers remained between her flesh and his.

  “Sit up and let me take yer shift off, lass.”

  She helped him lift it over her head. “I want ye, Jamie MacKay.”

  Kneeling in front of her, he urged her back down and nudged her legs apart. Seeing her this way filled him with an array of emotions—some that he’d never experienced before. In that moment, he was more a man than he’d ever been, for he felt suddenly complete. She’d given him a priceless gift—herself. And Jamie would protect her at all costs, die for her, kill a thousand men if that’s what it took to keep her away from anyone who meant her harm.

  Taking ahold of her hips, he positioned himself at her entrance, kissing her at the same time, determined to minimize the shock and pain of first entry. He knew pleasure waited for her after the first moments.

  “Jamie?”

  He cupped her face between his hands, holding her gaze, marveling at her Valkyrie-like beauty. Lust held her in its tight grip, too. With a gentle thrust, he entered her, and her eyes widened.

  “Tis all right, lass,” he whispered, rolling his hips slowly.

  He pushed again, going deeper, encased in tight, wet heat. “Helen?”

  “Doona stop now, please.”

  He couldna if he wanted to. Lost in the wave of emotions and the way it felt to be one with her, all he could do was surrender to the mounting tension. Aye, a piece of heaven on earth. God or fate had brought them together that night in the great hall. As he took shorter and faster strokes, filling her, withdrawing, then filling her again, her body stiffened and she whispered his name as she peaked. Her flesh clenched around him, and Jamie couldna stop his body’s response. He exploded inside her, collapsing on top of her, breathless and weak.

  For she had stolen more than just his heart. Quite possibly, she owned his soul.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Helen awoke to an empty bed. But when she threw the coverlets back and sat up, she found Miran seated at one of the chairs by the hearth, doing embroidery.

  “Miran? Where is my husband?”

  “He summoned me a few hours ago to sit with ye while he concluded his business with Laird Alex. I was given explicit instructions to let ye sleep.”

  Helen yawned and stretched her arms high over her head before she realized she wasna wearing anything. She quickly covered herself.

  “Milady,” Miran said, setting her work aside and standing. “Ye doona need to feel ashamed. I have seen ye naked before.”

  “But…”

  “Ye are a woman now and think it has changed ye?”

  “I feel verra different.”

  “All the women agree ye were the most beautiful bride. And Master Jamie, the happiest groom.”

  A tub
with steaming water had been set up near the hearth. How had Helen slept through servants hauling the tub into her bedchamber? A fresh tray of food had been placed on the bedside table. Just seeing the food set her stomach to growling.

  “Ye are hungry?”

  It wasn’t until Helen stood that she felt the soreness between her legs. Jamie had loved her a second time after they awoke just before sunrise. The fresh memory heated her insides—how he kissed and caressed her everywhere, his thick manhood filling her, pleasing her more than she’d ever imagined possible.

  Miran approached with a fresh sheet. “Let me drape this around ye so ye can sit and eat comfortably.”

  Helen agreed and let the maid wrap her in the soft material. Then Miran poured her a glass of wine and offered her fresh bread, boiled eggs, and smoked fish. As Helen ate, she watched Miran strip the bed, including the blood-stained sheet. When Miran separated it from the other linens, Helen said, “What are ye doing?”

  “Laird Alex wishes to spare ye the embarrassment of hanging yer bridal sheet in the great hall, but I must take it to him where he and several other witnesses will attest that ye were a maiden.”

  “My husband can speak to my innocence. I willna allow it!”

  “Ye must let me do this, Lady Helen. Please. Tis tradition and a point of great pride for our people.”

  “And what of my husband’s innocence? Will he suffer the same humiliation?”

  Miran chuckled. “Men doona have virgin blood.”

  “Ye are a maiden, Miran, but know so much about marriage.”

  “I have served many ladies.”

  “Yet ye are not truly a servant.”

  Miran gaped at her. “Who told ye?”

  “Jamie.”

  “He should have kept my secret.”

  “He cares for ye, Miran. As do I.”

  “I know.”

  “Which is why I beg ye to come with us.”

  “The decision has already been made. Lady Keely has ordered me to Sands Airgid. I am yer wedding gift from her.”

  Helen shot up and rushed to Miran, embracing her. “Ye willna regret it, Miran, I promise. And I willna call ye my maid any longer. Ye are my companion.”

  “I am pleased to go with ye. Now that Jamie has been made a laird, I see Sands Airgid as part of my home.”