“In that place he comes from, how would a woman be punished for looking at a man?”
“Depends on the lass’s father. Tis why they cover their women from head-to-toe in dark robes and a veil, so no one can see them.”
“I am glad we live in the Highlands.”
“Aye,” Jamie said. “And now I’ll have that promise.”
“I promise to never disobey ye—as long as someone hasna threatened yer life.”
Jamie growled and wrestled his wife onto her back, hovering over her, struck by the determination in her eyes. “Ye’ve changed.”
“Aye?”
“I doona think I can call ye Helen of the Highlands any longer, it doesna fit.”
“Then what will ye call me besides wife?”
“My lioness of the Highlands.Mo theaghlach, mo dhuthchas, mo bheatha.” My family, my blood, my life.
“I love ye, Jamie.”
“And I love ye.”
He rolled over, pulling her on top of him, and she laid her head on his chest. He knew he’d never let her go, and wished they could stay like this forever. But tomorrow, Jamie would deal with the rest of the Munroe men, and would choose a reward for his fearless captain and best friend, Kuresh. The man could have whatever he wanted, for he had saved both their lives.
As if she had read his mind, Helen said, “Have ye seen the way Kuresh stares at Miran?”
“Nay. Does the lass look at him?”
“Aye, but only if she thinks no one is watching. She’s verra private and rarely speaks about herself.”
“I am glad she came here,” Jamie said, kissing his wife.
“Both of them deserve to be happy.”
“Aye. And so do I.” He raised her skirts and caressed her leg, loving the velvety smoothness of her skin and the tiny sounds she made whenever he touched her. “Did ye forget my promise, my sweet lioness?”
“What promise?” she asked, looking down at him.
“To put a babe in yer belly before it grows warm.”
She sat up, and Jamie lifted her wool gown over her head, followed by her shift. Helen kicked off her slippers, still straddling him.
“Would ye like me to teach ye something new about bedsport?” he asked.
“There is more?”
“Och, aye,” he said. “Help me with my tartan.”
Once his manhood sprang free, he gripped her hips and lifted her onto his length. As she lowered herself and he filled her, he guided her, showing her how to roll her hips with his, how to please herself by controlling how fast and deep he went. She leaned over, her golden hair cascading around him like a protective cloak.
He stared up at her. He had known from the start that she would be his, that they were destined to be together. Love like that was undeniable, even if he was a MacKay, and she a Sutherland. And as God and fate would have it, she was a MacKay now—his wife—his brave lioness, the woman he’d love forever.
Epilogue
A week later…
“Ihave offeredye gold, land, my own war horse, a ship…” Laird Jamie rubbed his unshaven face. “Kuresh, how can I reward yer bravery? Tell me.” Why did his right hand have to be so difficult? Jamie deeply admired the russet-skinned warrior, a prince by birth, educated by the best tutors from Europe. He spoke four languages, could negotiate like any seasoned statesman, and women loved him. Perhaps a wife?
