“They are. Enjoy your evening.”
“Who was that?” Fee asked, still munching on one of the meringue flowers from the cake.
“Just tying up some loose ends, darling.” Looking across the dance floor, I found the man who sired me looking back.
Fee followed my gaze. “You don’t have to say a single goddamned thing to him.” Her arm slid around my waist and if her searing gaze had been a physical thing, Cormac MacTavish Senior would be on fire.
“It’s fine.” I kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you in a moment, wife. Perhaps we can slip away from the celebration for some private time.”
“Is that what we’re calling fucking, now?” Fee asked, a sly smile on her lips. “Do married people have to be so subtle?” She squeezed my hand and stepped back. “I’ll be around. With a knife, if you like. A gun. Perhaps Grandad’s pitchfork.”
It was like walking toward an older, darker-haired version of myself, and it was unsettling. My bride was correct. I didn’t have to speak to this bastard. Not in this lifetime. But my father Simon, mytruefather, taught me never to hide from anything. Or anyone.
“Cormac.”
His gaze met mine. “Alec. You throw a grand party.” I knew he’dbeen fighting alongside his sons this afternoon, killing the men who threatened me and my wife.
“Thank you for your part today.”
His smile was sad. “I will always be here, if you need me. Even if we never have anything else.”
I knew at least a couple of the MacTavish sons were close by, watching us and bristling a bit. Putting out my hand, I gritted my teeth, shaking his. “Thank you.”
It wasn’t as painful as I’d expected.
“Where are we going?” Fee looped her arms around my neck, laughing because our departure from the party was in no way subtle. Seizing my bride by her waist and hauling her off her feet fast enough to lose a shoe could not be considered a quiet exit.
“While the Lady Elspeth’s skill in re-setting our wedding after a gunfight is almost supernatural, I did not want to have her assistance for the wedding night.” I settled her on a side-by-side ATV, tucking in her skirt.
“Agreed,” she said fervently.
We headed in the precise opposite direction of where the men with the backhoe had just finished burying the bodies and smoothing over the soil. In spring, Fintan intended to plant a new grove of maple trees - rare in Ireland - to make up for the grove we’d cut to pieces with gunfire. “I’ve always wanted to make my own maple syrup,” he’d said with a dark grin.
There was a golden glow in the distance that grew brighter as I drove closer to the river that ran alongside the farm.
“Oh…” Fee sighed. “So much better than the barn loft, which was where I had been about to settle for.”
Kyle and a couple of my people set up a heavy canvas tent, circular in shape with the tent flap pulled back.Inside, golden lights circled the tent’s ceiling like stars and lit up the huge platform bed, covered in cashmere blankets and a multitude of pillows. There was a little table groaning with heartier food than was served at the wedding reception and space heaters to keep us warm.
“My bride.” I offered her my hand, helping her off the ATV. “I am trying to be a gentleman-”
“You are as much a gentleman as I am lady,” she interrupted.
“-but would you like to eat first?”
Fee pulled the canvas ties loose and the door flap dropped, sealing us inside the tent together. “I would like to remove our clothes as quickly as possible.”
“That can be accomplished.” I ripped her dress straight down the front, dropping it in two pieces to the floor.
“I was going to dye that black and use it again! What a waste!”
“I’ll get you another one. In every color,” I promised, kissing the tattoo of the snake on her shoulder, her neck, her lips. Her nimble fingers pulled off my Kevlar vest, what was left of my tuxedo shirt and the tatters of my trousers as I appreciated her lack of a bra.
“That filthy grin of yours could melt the knickers off a nun,” she laughed, kissing me again as I divested her of her own.
My bride was naked, perfect and utterly beautiful and I sat on the bed, straddling her on my thigh. My hands slid over her ass, squeezing her gently as I slid her pussy up and down my thigh, chuckling as her legs tightened around me. Her back arched, her hips pressing down and swirling against my thigh as her clit bumped against my flexing quadriceps.
“You’re blazing hot,” I whispered in her ear, giving her lobe a sharp bite. “So slick against my leg.”
