Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
I’m in a daze—a trance—as he gently slips free of me. He rolls onto his side, pulling me into him and wrapping me so tightly in his big, strong arms. And I’ve never imagined feeling so protected, and safe, and loved. I burrow back into him, panting, sweat covering both of our bodies as he just holds me like that, his lips tease across the back of my neck. We stay there for what seems like hours, though I have no idea how long.
All I know is, I never want to leave his arms.
But, eventually, I know we need to go. At some point tonight, after all, we need to get married.
“Come, sweetness,” he finally purrs, pulling away. He slips his kilt and tunic on before wrapping me in my dress and scooping me into his arms. “There’s a bath waiting for the both of us. And then?”
He grins, leaning close and brushing my lips with his.
“And then, I’m going to marry you.”
Chapter 11
Catriona
I take a deep breath, looking at myself in the mirror.
Gods, it’s really happening.
The white gown falls around me like gossamer and light, and I can’t help, but bite at my lip as the grin spread across my face. Nine times, I was told I was marrying someone. Nine times, I met some lord or another, and nine times, they went running.
But then came Callum. Callum of the stolen kisses. Callum of the gruff, rough exterior that’s really just armor for the kind, amazing, loving, and fiercely protective man inside. Callum who’ll be my husband in the next hour.
I smooth my dress down, taking another shaky breath as a feeling of happiness melts over me. I couldn’t have asked for it any other way. Not for a better man, and not for a better wedding. We’re doing it at midnight, in the tradition of the old ways, which was both of our ideas. The ceremony will be small—just him and I, my family, and our friends. Hamish and Una, and Malcolm and Ailith should be here any moment if they aren’t already. As is—
There’s a knock at my bedroom door, and I turn quickly. Before I can even say a word though, the door swings wide, and I gasp, jumping behind my dressing screen.
“You can’t see me bef—”
“Oh, calm down, it’s just me. And look who I found!”
I let out a breath, realizing its Iona and not Callum as I thought. And then I laugh, seeing her with her arms tight around Rhona, who I guess has just arrived.
“You’re here!”
Rhona beams at me, but she’s still stuck where she is with Iona hugging her.
“I haven’t seen this girl in so long!”
Rhone laughs. “Well, that’s what happens when you move to France, you know.”
Iona sighs. “I know, I know. It’s been so hard living in the Countess’s manor in Paris. Eating all that delicious French food, drinking all of that good wine. Being pampered by all those handsome French boys.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. So does Rhona, slipping out of Iona’s arms to come over and hug me.
“You look beautiful, you know.”
I blush, biting my lip. “Thanks. And thank you for being here.”
Rhona grins. “Tenth time is the charm, I guess?”
I laugh. “Apparently so.”
“Well, I think we all can agree that Cat just needed someone extra strong-willed and headstrong, like her.”
Rhona laughs at Iona before turning to me, an excited flush on her cheeks.
“I mean, it is kind of scandalous the way Lord Bruce just… kissed you that night at Una’s wedding. And then galloping off to find you at your grandmother’s tower.”
I blush, my eyes dropping. “Who says Callum kissed me at—”
“Cat,” Iona says flatly, rolling her eyes. “That look you’ve got on right now says he did.”
And of course, I just blush redder. I swallow it back through, arching a brow at Rhona.
“You think my whole thing is scandalous? Rhona, Ailith’s husband stole her, along with a damn boat, from her own wedding.”
Iona bursts into hoots of laugher. “Oh my God, I cannot wait to ask her about that tonight and meet this new husband of hers. You know, after we celebrate you, of course.”
I smile, shaking my head. “Three down, one to go, huh?”
Rhona’s smile fades, and I wince.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, cursing my stupid mouth as I quickly take Rhona’s hands.
But she just smiles, shrugging it off.
“No, it’s fine. It’s… yeah.”
Of the four of us, I’m the only one who didn’t have a marriage arranged for them. Una was betrothed to Hamish, which obviously worked out wonderfully. Ailith was promised to the creepy Lord Carlson, but that of course went away when Malcolm stole her away. And then there’s Rhona, who’s still promised to Lord Wythe—close to thrice her age, five times her weight, with a reputation for being as ill-tempered as he is slovenly.