“Emily.” Gregor grabbed her attention, a broad smile toying with the curve of his mouth. “With this ring, I thee wed…”
She didn’t hear the rest of his words. Tears of joy pricked the back of her eyes. His father had sent the ring. The man must be a messenger from Dunadd. Gregor placed the beautiful gold and peridot ring on the second finger of her left hand.
Deeply touched, Emily stammered through her vows.
“In front of God and these witnesses I proclaim you man and wife. You may kiss your bride, lad,” the priest instructed Gregor.
Emily gazed at her new husband with awe. It didn’t matter they were strangers. She sensed there was something special between them, perhaps magical, something that bound them together even though they were from different places. Different times.
She studied his full lips, anticipating the feel of them against her mouth. She moistened her lips, wanting him more than she would have imagined possible only a few days prior.
His pupils dilated, and he sucked in a ragged breath. He lifted a loose tendril of her hair and tucked it behind an ear. His calloused fingers brushed along the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck.
Fire and ice. She shivered. A delicious chill tingled over her shoulder blades. Why was he making her wait?
He grasped the back of her neck. Placed his other palm against the curve of her cheek. His hot gaze devoured her. Held her enthralled.
Her pulse quickened. Her mouth went dry.
“Please,” she murmured, voice low, raspy, needy.
He grinned and lowered his head. A whisper of breath teased her lips before he made contact and brushed his full lips over hers, the gentle kiss achingly seductive.
She curled her arms around his neck, leaned in, and pressed against his broad chest.
Teasing the seam of her lips, he nudged them apart, deepening the kiss, exploring the moist recesses within, taking possession of her mouth. Of her soul.
She claimed him, too. Chose to forget they stood before those few gathered to witness the wedding.
A loud catcall slipped through the sensual haze surrounding her, and she attempted to pull away. He didn’t allow it. His kiss became more demanding, and she surrendered to it. When they finally broke apart, her cheeks flamed with heat.
Holy crap. If he made love the way he kissed, she’d be in heaven.
She kept her thrilled smile to herself as they turned to those who’d come into the small chapel to offer congratulations.
A large ginger-haired man slapped Gregor on the back. “I told you she would take you for a merry ride.”
The messenger from Dunadd stepped forward and again hugged Gregor. He then turned to Emily, inquiry in his dark gaze.
“Emily, this is my father. Allain of Dunadd.” Gregor pivoted to his father. “My wife, sir.”
She should have known. The man’s eyes were the same dark chocolate color as his son’s. She should have caught the resemblance sooner.
“I am verra pleased to meet you, daughter.”
“And I you,” she curtsied, guessing that might beexpected.
Isobell scooted over and hugged Emily. “Now we are cousins.”
Gregor guided her through the others.
At the doorway, Munn held a jeweled goblet to Emily. Another, he offered to Gregor. “May your marriage be blessed.”
Gregor accepted his, but Emily hesitated. Could the contents be tainted by magic?
She glanced over her shoulder to the woman who stood behind her. “Isobell?”
Isobell cast a penetrating stare at the brownie. “May I taste the wine, Munn?”
