Page 106 of To Wed a Wild Scot

Logan took her hand as she stepped daintily into the tub. They both sighed when she was nestled against him, with her back pressed against his broad chest and his long legs wrapped around her.

He ran his hands through her hair. “So, Emilia told you whatbhig gallameans?”

“Yes. It means little vixen.” Juliana tried to sound affronted, but there was a smile on her lips.

He chuckled against her ear. “Aye, it does. What else did she tell you?”

Juliana shivered at the warm drift of his breath. “Beag deomhan. Little demon. Really, Logan, you’re incorrigible. To begin with, I’m not little—”

“Shh.” He nipped gently at her earlobe to quiet her. “Did she tell you anything else?”

Juliana tilted her head to the side to give him access to her neck. “No. She tried to, but I couldn’t pronounce any of the others well enough for her to understand me.”

Logan ran his palms down her arms, then lower to stroke her stomach. “Mo bhean uasalmeans ‘my lady.’”

Juliana arched into his touch. “Well, that’s notsoawful, I suppose.”

“Bheanmeans wife.Dùr bheanmeans stubborn wife,” he went on, a smile in his voice.

“Humph.” It was hardly flattering, but Juliana couldn’t really argue the point. Shewasstubborn. Almost as stubborn as her husband.

Logan was quiet as he traced rhythmic circles on her stomach with his fingertips. When he spoke again, the teasing note had left his voice, and it was hoarse with emotion.“Àlainnandbreaghaboth mean beautiful.Breagha bhean.Àlainn bhean.What does it mean, Ana?”

“Beautiful wife.” Such a simple phrase, but it made Juliana’s heart swell in her chest.

“Bòcanmeans sprite.Uaine air leth-shùilmeans ‘green-eyed.’Uaine air leth-shùil bòcan.”

“Green-eyed sprite,” Juliana whispered.

She tried to turn in his arms them, but he slid his hands up to her shoulders and held her gently against him, stilling her. “Neach-gaoilmeans beloved.Bhean ghràdhach. Beloved wife,” he murmured, his lips against her neck. “That’s what you are to me, Ana.Tha gaol agam ort, bhean. Tha thu mo chridhe.”

I love you, wife. You are my heart.

This time when Juliana turned to face him, he let her. She cradled his face in her palms. “How do you say ‘my husband’ in Gaelic?”

He smiled. “An duine agam.”

Juliana traced his lips to feel the words. “Tha gaol agam ort, bhean. Tha thu mo chridhe, an duine agam.”

She stumbled over the words, her pronunciation clumsy, but Logan didn’t seem to mind. He drew her tightly against him and took her lips in a kiss that left her breathless.

Juliana made up her mind right then and there to learn Gaelic. “How do you say, ‘Kiss me again’?”

“Pòg mi a-rithist.” Logan’s lips hovered over hers.

Juliana gazed up into the blue eyes that had mesmerized her since the first moment she saw him and whispered, “Pòg mi a-rithist.”

He did, until the fire died to embers, and the bathwater ran cold.