Page 101 of Deception of a Highlander

Her breath quickened. Surely, he didn’t mean…

“This time, I know ye as I dinna know ye then. I know yer faults that ye feel are great and that I feel are few. And I know yer strengths that ye feel are few, and I feel are great. After hiding for years, ye finally have someone who knows ye, knows all of ye, and loves ye no’ in spite of it, but for it.” He stroked her cheek. “I love ye, Mariel, and I would be honored if ye would become my wife.”

She jerked back from the burn of his touch, unable to bear the torment of his closeness any longer. “How could you possibly wish to wed me?”

Kieran’s hands gripped her arms firmly, forcing her to return her gaze to him. “I was a warrior for years. Do ye no’ think I dinna have to do things I dinna want to do? Things I was ashamed to do? I killed men who meant to kill me and stole food when my warriors were starving. It doesna matter the direction necessity forces ye to take in life. It matters which way ye go when ye have a choice.”

Pain laced his words. He understood her far more than she’d thought possible. He knew the raw burn of survival and bore its wicked scars.

His lips pressed against her forehead, and the familiar spice of his scent enveloped her with memories that left tears in her eyes.

“Ye dinna have to sacrifice any part of yerself ever again, Mariel. Come back to Skye with Jack.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “Ye dinna have to marry me if ye dinna want to. Regardless, ye will have a home for the two of ye.” He paused. “But if ye do want to marry me, I promise to be a verra good husband.”

He saw something in her she had never allowed herself to see and gave her permission to accept what she had done in the past, to move forward into a future she had never considered. While she saw only the bad that she had done, he opened her eyes to all the good in her life.

She could begin a new life. With him. A smile spread over her lips before she could stop it.

He grinned down at her. “Typically, when a man asks a lass to marry him, it’s polite to give him a response of some kind.”

She gave a choked laugh. “You’re exceptionally good at convincing people, Kieran MacDonald.”

His eyebrows raised in a serious expression. “Is that a yes?”

“Aye,” she teased, “that’s a yes.”

His arms wrapped around her, narrowly missing the whip’s mark around her waist, and pulled her against the solid warmth of his chest. She melted against him and breathed deeply, allowing the memories to fill her heart with a joy she had tempered for too long.

“No one will ever hurt ye again,” he whispered fiercely into her ear. “Ye’re mine, and I’ll no’ ever let anything cause ye unhappiness.”

His heartbeat was steady and strong against her cheek. “I love you,” she breathed into the warmth of his leine, not certain if he would hear her.

“And I love ye, my sweet Mariel.”

* * *

Kieran stood at the front of the small, private chapel and tried to ignore the numerous sets of eyes on him. The thick stone walls held out the heat of the midafternoon sun while the large lead-encased windows let in ample light. Bundles of heather dotted the aisles with sprays of purple. Blair had outdone herself, and he couldn’t help but smile, knowing how it would please Mariel.

The glossy wooden door of the chapel, however, remained closed as they all waited for her arrival.

Kieran shifted from one foot to the other, and he caught the pungent aroma of rosemary he’d inadvertently crushed beneath his boot. He scanned the faces of his clan, where they waited in eager anticipation.

Alec sat silently in the back with a rare grin on his face. Colin, who’d finally learned to keep his damned hands to himself, sat at the front. Even Hamish had arrived, wearing his best plaid for the occasion. Blair sat between Dougal and Jack with her arms affectionately slung around each boy. Tears glistened in her eyes, and the ceremony had yet to begin.

Jack and Dougal had not stayed out of trouble since they’d been introduced. Though Mariel and Blair acted exasperated with the antics, Kieran knew deep down they were glad to see the boys happy once more.

The doors to the chapel opened, and Mariel swept in like a mythical goddess, ethereal with a halo of golden afternoon light framing her slender form.

Her long onyx hair tumbled down her shoulders to the simple blue gown she wore. She glided down the short aisle to his side. Her eyes sparkled up at him with a joy that lodged in his heart and swelled with pleasure.

There were so many things he wanted to tell her, so much to say that he found himself overwhelmed. She humbled him with her love. She made the warrior turned laird in a land never meant to be his suddenly feel right and washed away the bitterness of his past with the warmth of her presence.

“Ye look bonnie,” he whispered. Petty words that failed to cover all he wished to say.

He would take the time to show her his appreciation once the festivities came to a close and they were left alone in his chamber. Their chamber.

His blood heated at the thought.

The priest cleared his throat, silently chastising them with a stern look. Kieran reluctantly turned from his bride to face the old man, who prattled on for what felt like an eternity before he finally addressed Mariel. “Do ye consent to this union?”