Page 88 of Wanted By the Wicked Highlander

“Ye realize,” she said against his shoulder, half-laughing, “we willnae hear the end of that man’s singin’ for the rest of our lives now, aye?”

“Aye. I have made me peace with it.”

“That quickly?”

“I am an adaptable man. I believe we established that already tonight.”

Much later, Alba lay curled against his chest, the fur pulled loose around them both, firelight reduced to embers and soft shadows. She pressed her palm more firmly against his chest, feeling the steady, unhurried rhythm underneath, as if counting his heartbeats might somehow make this new, quiet certainty between them feel more real than it already did.

“Ye’re quiet,” she murmured, tracing an idle line along his collarbone. “Ye’re doin’ that thing again, where ye go quiet and I cannae tell if ye’re thinkin’ or broodin’.”

“Can it nae be both?”

“It usually is, with ye.”

“I am thinkin’.”

“Dangerous habit for ye.”

“Aye, so I am told.” He pressed a slow kiss to the top of her head, tightening his arm around her. “I am thinking that three months ago, I’d have called any man mad who told me I’d end up here. Wed. Happy. Nae a single wall standin’ between us anymore.”

“And now?”

“Now I cannae imagine it any other way.” He tipped her chin up with one finger, meeting her eyes in the dying firelight. “Ye’re stuck with me, Alba MacGregor. For however long I have got left to give ye.”

“MacGregor,” she repeated, testing the shape of the name like she had not quite settled into it yet. “I suppose I will manage.”

“A compliment?”

“The highest I have got to give for now.” She pressed a kiss to his jaw and settled back against his chest, the sound of distant, off-key singing still drifting faintly up through the stairs. “Ask me again in the mornin’, though. I reserve the right to change me answer once the whisky’s worn off.”

“Ye wouldnae dare.”

“Try me, MacGregor.”

He laughed, low and warm, and pulled her closer.

The firelight danced across the stone walls, casting flickering shadows that made the chamber feel both intimate and vast. They lay on the fur near the hearth, the woolen shift clinging to her curves, its thin fabric doing little to ward off the chill or the heat building beneath her skin.

Her first marriage had been a political arrangement, her husband old and indifferent, dying before they had ever… well. But Sebastian,herSebastian, was different.

His fingers brushed her cheek, calloused from the sword and the reins, yet gentle as moth wings. Alba leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed. Sebastian’s other hand came to rest ather waist, his thumb stroking circles through the thin fabric. She could feel the heat of his palm seeping through, branding her skin.

When his lips met hers, it was not the chaste kisses they had shared before. This was deeper, hungrier. Sebastian’s tongue traced the seam of her lips, and Alba opened to him with a soft sigh. He tasted of whisky and desire, his kiss claiming her mouth with a thoroughness that made her knees weak. His hands slid down her back, cupping her buttocks through the shift, pulling her flush against him.

Alba gasped as she felt his hardness pressing against her belly. Even through layers of fabric, his size was intimidating.

“Easy, love,” he whispered against her lips, sensing her tension. “We have all night.”

His hands moved to the hem of her shift, slowly lifting it. Alba’s heart hammered against her ribs as the fabric bared her legs, then thighs, then the curling hair between them.

Sebastian dropped to his knees before her, his gaze reverent as he studied what he had uncovered. He pressed his face against her belly, breathing deeply as if memorizing her scent.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, his beard tickling her skin. “More than I imagined.”

Alba’s fingers tangled in his dark hair as his kisses drifted lower. He nipped at her hipbones, his tongue tracing patterns that made her shudder. When his mouth found the damp curls between her thighs, she cried out, her back arching from the fur.

Sebastian held her steady, his hands gripping her hips as his tongue delved into her folds.