But she’d not counted on falling in love. She’d not counted on Ian.
Rhiannon felt so blessed in this moment, her heart thudding hard against her ribs and a smile so wide on her face, she was sure her cheeks would ache in the morning. This might be the happiest day of her life. Which also made her feel a little guilty, given her brother was lying upstairs sleeping the sleep of the injured, with a healer making sure he didn’t succumb to a fever.
Besides that part, she would change nothing of this moment—until Ian gave her a look that made her toes curl.
“I want to take ye to bed,” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded, swallowing, warmth and heady anticipation encasing her.
Ian gripped her hand in his and tugged her toward the stairs. The loud shouts from the great hall were as deafening as they were when he kissed her. But she didn’t care. Being led by Ian was what she wanted to be for the rest of her days. A safe haven. A loving one.
He had delivered her from a dismal future she couldn’t even contemplate, and now here they were, married. For the rest of their lives, she’d be by his side. Ian swept her into his arms and climbed at a pace that made her cling to him.
When they reached the chamber they’d share for the night, he shut the door behind them but still held her close.
“You can put me down,” she teased. And yet, her arms tightened around his shoulders as she said it as if her body didn’t want to let go.
Ian pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “What if I never want to let ye go?”
Rhiannon kissed his lips lightly, emotion swelling her chest. “I would hold on.”
“Och, lass, that is exactly what I want to hear. I never thought I’d get married, and now I canna fathom no’ being your husband. No’ having ye as my wife.”
Husband.
Aye, hers. All hers.
When she was a girl, Rhiannon dreamed of being a wife one day. But as the years went on, she hadn’t been so certain. And then, when her brother came along, the idea had been abhorrent. Not in her wildest dreams had she ever believed she’d have a husband who thrilled her with a look.
A husband she loved.
Ian’s lips brushed lightly over hers, and Rhiannon lost her train of thought. She let all the worries, the angst, the horrors of the past fall away.
“I love ye, lass. I think I fell in love with ye the moment I first spied ye and Goosie in the wood.”
Rhiannon bit her lip, her belly flipping as happiness flooded her. “I’ll be forever grateful you came for me, Ian. You risked so much crossing the border for a stranger.” Rhiannon cupped his cheek, loving the way his stubble tickled her palm. “I love you so much. You make me feel so warm, safe, and cherished.” Emotion ran wild inside her, threatening to spill over into tears, so she smiled and teased, “And who could not love a man who rides a horse with a cat tucked into his shirt?”
Ian chuckled. “Goosie has my heart, too, lass.”
“She’s a lucky cat. And I’m a lucky woman.”
“Och, the luck is all mine.”
With her arms wrapped around his shoulders, Rhiannon pressed her lips to his, desiring nothing more than to be intoxicated by her husband’s kiss. He tasted of the whiskey he’d sipped during the feast and as sweet as the spiced fruit pies they’d been served after they supped.
Ian’s tongue slid over hers in slow, tantalizing swipes, causing tingles to skate along her flesh, hardening her nipples, settling in her core, and making her quiver.
Ian carried her to the massive four-poster bed. The Sinclair plaid curtains were already tugged open, and the bedclothes turned down in anticipation of their arrival. He laid her down, then just as swiftly was beside her.
As soon as they hit the mattress, excitement and feral memory overcame her. Oh, how she’d wanted to make love to him.
Ian kissed her gently, stroking her softly on her arms and the nape of her neck until her body trembled with need. He slid his mouth along her throat and up to her ear. “I want ye so bad I can taste it.”
Rhiannon tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access. “I want you to taste me.”
Her thoughts had turned carnal, lusty, as she imagined him gliding his muscular form over her, his tongue swirling and dipping.
Ian laughed softly, a delicious gravelly sound.
