She turned. ‘How about now?’
Although Niall’s face was out of view, the tone of his voice was unmistakable.
‘Fuck!’
She turned back to him.
‘Fuck me, Cass. You got a tattoo.’
‘Yep. It’s going to say Butler, but I need to take the pain in increments so “B” was enough for one day.’
‘Shit. You got it for me?’
That he hadn’t realised that amazed her. ‘Well, you got two for me, so I had to catch up.’
‘You are incredible!’ Niall moved round her to examine the tattoo again. ‘I love it… I love you. Although you do know it’s going to say “but” for a while.’
‘Yep, but trust me, there are no buts. None. You’re it for me, Mr Butler.’
Beaming from ear to ear, Niall pulled off his sporran, threw it on the bed and tucked her naked waist into the thick fabric of his kilt. ‘And you, Ms Caselli, are it for me. Seventeen years has gone by in a flash now you’re here. But that is never happening again. Ever. I promise you.’
‘Agreed. ’Til a’ the seas gang dry and all that.’
‘Aye. Forever. Now, come on, lie this beautiful body with my name almost on it down on the bed and I’ll reconnect you to your homeland.’
And there was no way Carli would say no to a true Scotsman – her one and only Scotsman – lifting his kilt and showing her exactly how he felt about her.
Epilogue: Carli
Seven months later
Kinshore’s secret garden shimmered in full spring bloom. Birds chattered in the cherry blossom trees, tulips burst open under the warm spring sun, and golden daffodils were radiant in their April splendour.
Carli and Niall lay side by side on a picnic blanket on the grass next to her mum’s memorial bench, an empty hamper nearby. Glen and Massimo were curled up, sleeping at the bottom of the blanket.
‘I can’t believe we’re leaving this weather behind,’ Carli said. ‘Just as it’s getting nice.’
‘Ach, don’t let it trick you, Cass,’ Niall said languidly. ‘Today is lovely but tomorrow could be rain and clouds. You should know that by now. Melbourne weather is much more consistent.’
‘Have you been to Melbourne?’ Carli laughed. ‘It’s four seasons in one day.’
‘Okay, just as well I’ve packed for all four seasons, then.’
‘You’ve packed? Last I saw, there were three pairs of boardies in the bottom of the suitcase. For a non-surfing holiday.’
‘Well, I might get lucky. I’ll chuck in a few tops and my toothbrush, but that’s me done.’ Niall swung his leg over Carli’s. ‘Speaking of getting lucky, I need to ask you an important question.’
‘What’s that then?’ Unless he was about to stand up and usher in a marching band, this wasn’t a proposal. Niall was in far too laid back a mood for something that big to be on the cards today.
‘Would you like to join the Niall high club?’ he asked. ‘On the plane to Melbourne.’
Carli’s laughter rebounded off the garden walls. ‘As honoured as I am by the invitation, I genuinely don’t know if my limbs could take it in that tiny toilet. But since we’re flying business class, I might offer you a bedtime story. Carli’s cabin club, if you know what I mean.’
‘Oh, I think I know exactly what you mean.’ Niall nuzzled into her neck. ‘Sounds perfect to me. I do have trouble sleeping on flights.’
‘Well, consider that a thing of the past with your own in-seat cabin crew.’
‘Can’t wait.’ Niall rolled onto his back, took Carli’s hand and they soaked in the rare sunshine, letting it warm their bones, Carli’s in particular. Spring was so welcome after the ravages of Scottish winter. Thankfully, the oxygen sessions in Oban helped immensely with her symptoms, and the cottage she and Niall shared was always cosy and toasty.
