Page 97

“Ye’re welcome, lass. Didna ken I did anything except tear my hair off my head. Any longer, and ye may have come back to a bald man.”

“I’ll take you in any shape and form.”

“I almost kicked the rock into dust in frustration. ’Tis probably a trench down there in the underground storeroom where I paced daily.”

She laughed, and the sound reverberated in his chest, melting the last tensions, reservations, and fears. She was truly here, truly in his arms.

“Come, lass.” He took her by the hand and led her down the stairs. “Ye must be freezing. I’ll warm ye up. There are less warriors in the castle now, so more spare rooms. The constable gave me a bedchamber, so ye and I have plenty of time together alone.”

They climbed down the stairs and reached the courtyard.

“I’m so glad you waited,” she said.

He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then he slowly ran his hand down her cloak and took a handful of her arse, though it was mostly fabric. “Let me greet ye properly, like I’ve wanted to all this time without ye.”

“And you think I’ll just stay with you in the same room without being married?”

He stopped and stared at her in astonishment. “What?”

“Just kidding.”

He shook his head, and in one swift movement, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Amber squealed and beat against his back with her fists. Without a care about who saw them, he clapped her arse. “Jesting, huh? Dinna give me—what did ye call it—a heart attack?”

“Let me down!”

“In a moment, lass. When ye’re in my bedchamber, and I’ve barred the door. I wilna let ye out even if the English come knocking again.”

He reached the small tower and quickly climbed the stairs to the first floor with his bonnie, precious load on his shoulder. Inverlochy Castle was a royal castle, and Owen took her to the room designated for honorable guests. It was where the Bruce would sleep should he come to stay. A fire burned in the fireplace, and it was warm and dry in the room. He set her down on the bed and stretched on top of her.

“I missed ye, lass.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “I missed you, too.”

He kissed her deeply, settling his weight between her legs. He was already hard and aching for her. He undid the fastening on her cloak.

“Was it hard to say goodbye? To leave everything behind?”

She bit her lip. It was swollen from the kiss, and he ached to take it between his own teeth.

“My brother Jonathan helped me clear my name. Without him, it would never have worked.”

“Aye. Kin.”

“While we worked together, we grew closer than we’ve ever been. In the end, it was hard.”

“Did ye tell him ye were marrying a man born hundreds of years ago?”

Her smile was sad. “No. He’d put me in a hospital for the mentally ill or something.”

“So what did ye say?”

“I said I was going to travel the world. Then I arranged for my aunt Christel, who lives near Inverlochy, to send him a letter a year from now that explains the truth. I wrote that he may think I’m insane, but he should know I’m happy, and that I found love. And that love is worth going crazy for.”

He kissed her again, loving her, appreciating her like never before. He kissed her chin, then down her neck, inhaling her scent as though he wanted to make her a part of his bloodstream. He ran his hands down her body, undid the belt on her tunic, and went under it with his hands, brushing his fingers up her soft skin.

She cocked her head back and arched a little into his touch. He pulled her tunic up and marveled at her beautiful body.

“How lucky I am.” He kissed the lower parts of her breast. “Ye’re a woman like nae other. Made of pure wonder and brought to me through time by magic.”