Fook.
Bull’s eyes had gone wide as he stared down at his new wife. “What? Nay…”
Her lips curled. “Yes. If you think about your history with all of us—starting way back when you decided to escort Honoria to London to spring Crowe from prison—you will see I am telling the truth.”
Bull shook himself and began to waltz again, trying to push away her praise. “How do ye ken about that? Ye’re no’ supposed to ken about that!”
“I am your wife, Bull,” Rose laughed, her hand tight in his as she smiled up at him. “Anda fairly good detective, I have it on good authority.”
“Aye, the best,” he agreed, bending down to kiss her.
Her words, her praise…he would have to consider her claims. Later. When he wasn’t holding his bride, tasting her?—
“Stop kissing my daughter, yeexecrable cockwobbler!”came the roar from the fern, and Bull was chuckling as he straightened and swept Rose into the dance again.
“He really does like you, you know,” Rose said through her laughter. “He is just shite at expressing things like that.”
Bull glanced over her shoulder to where Georgia was arguing with Demon in hushed voices, while her sister Danielle and brother-in-law Fawkes looked on with smirks. “So how is he acclimatizing to having me as a son-in-law?”
“Oh, he hates it,” his bride said cheerfully. “But as I think he probably would have murdered any other man to marry me, I would say you are doing well.”
Huh. Well. That was good. “He must be miserable, hosting this many people at Endymion.”
“I cannot even begin to imagine what mother had to promise him to make it happen.”
“Something truly depraved, most likely.” Having grown up surrounded by loving couples—the people in this room right now—Bull had become used to ignoring the sights and sounds of physical love, and now he chuckled even as Rose rolled her eyes.
“I’ll make ye a promise, my Rose. When it’s time forourdaughter—or daughters—to find love, I’ll no’ stand in their way.”Or tell the man who loves her that he’s no’ good enough. “As long as they have a stable future, I’ll trust her to build a forever.”
Rose blinked tear-filled eyes up at him.
“A stable future, and a good name, one he’s earned,” Bull added thoughtfully, teasing her. “And a nice fat bank account. And a title, perhaps. And?—”
“Thank you, Bull. Things like that…”
When she trailed off, Bull’s grin grew. “What?”
“It is why you aremyfavorite forever.”
He lowered his lips to hers, as a voice in the background bellowed, “He’s doing it again!”
The fire crackled behind her, and Rosie knew the flames silhouetted her body through the thin, almost sheer silk of her nightgown. She’d chosen it specifically for this effect—the pale green fabric clinging to her curves, leaving little to the imagination.
Diaphanous.
The door opened and Bull stepped inside, wearing a dark blue dressing robe. His eyes widened as he took her in, his gaze traveling from her tousled short hair down to her bare feet, and back up again.
“Fook me sideways,” he breathed.
“I believe that is the plan,” Rosie replied, her lips curving. “I might need a hand with the sideways, though.”
He laughed, the sound warm and familiar, easing the flutter of nerves in her stomach. “Did I tell ye how beautiful ye looked today?”
“Only about twenty times.” She stepped toward him. “And I must say, you looked rather magnificent yourself in that kilt.”
“Thank ye. It’s my own design, actually.”
Rosie reached for the tie of his robe, slowly pulling it loose as excitement built within her. “You know, I’d like to commission someone to make me a gown from that plaid. Do you know anyone who could design me something truly magnificent?”
