“I love you, too.”
Though he’d guessed as much, hearing the words filled him with pleasure—and not a small amount of satisfaction.
“I’m glad of it,a leanbh.” And he was. Their feelings would help to make the shite storm they’d just unleashed worth it.
He hoped.
But seeing her naked limbs entwined with his, her hair tumbling around her shoulders in wild disarray, and the boldly beautiful features turned to his, he couldn’t help feel a twinge of doubt.
Fin’s words came back to him.Attention...Demanding...Wild.
Nay. His friend was wrong. Margaret might speak and act a little outrageously at times, but that was simply because she didn’t know any better. Despite the unusual freedom in how she’d been raised, there was something oddly sheltered about her—almost innocent.
She was ignorant of social mores, that’s all, not wicked. Well, maybe a little wicked, but as he suspected that would keep him well satisfied in the bedchamber, he didn’t mind.
With everything else, his mother would help. Once Margaret spent some time at his home with his mother and sisters, she would learn what was appropriate and expected of her as his wife.
If something about that didn’t sit quite right, he pushed it aside. It would all work out.
She’d lowered her face back to his chest, and was tracing little circles through his chest hair with the tip of her finger. “I wish we could stay here like this forever,” she said. He thought she might have picked up on some of his worry until she laughed. “Although as many times as I imagined what my wedding would be like, it was never like this.”
“You wanted a big wedding?” Of course she did. Didn’t all lasses? Damn it. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t what I meant. I just never thought my marriage would be so romantic—or that I could be this happy being so wicked.” She grinned mischievously. “Although we might want to come up with a different story to tell our children.” His heart jammed.Children? “I don’t think ‘Father ravished Mummy against a wall so he had to marry her’ is exactly the kind of lesson in courtship we want to impart.”
He couldn’t help it; he laughed. Shewasoutrageous, and damn if he didn’t like it.
“Although I suspect I’d have a hard time convincing anyone of it,” she added.
His brows drew together. “What do you mean?”
She rolled her eyes. “You hardly ever crack a smile, Eoin. I doubt anyone will think you’ve been swept away by passion.”
“Looking at you right now they might,” he said wryly.
She grinned unrepentantly. “Do I look as wonderfully and thoroughly debauched as I feel?”
“I think I should be the one who looks proud about it, but aye, you do.”
“Ooh, I wish I had a looking glass.”
He wished he could paint a picture. He would carry it with him forever, and never tire of looking at it.
Christ, she was turning him into a lovesick troubadour. Soon he’d be composing sonnets and singing songs about her beauty.
Sliding her up his body, he lowered his head and kissed her on the lips one more time, and then on the forehead. “We need to go.”
Her gaze locked on his. “Must we?”
He nodded.
The sudden trepidation in her eyes made him think she wasn’t as oblivious to the knowledge of what lay ahead of them than he’d thought.
“Will it be so horrible, do you think?” she asked.
He lied to her for the first time. “Once the initial shock is over, I’m sure it will be fine.”
10
