Una.

  “How much do you trust these sources?”

  Malcolm just clenches his jaw, and I swear.

  “Alright, we’ll start preparing for anything, in case he’s foolish enough to come here. But first, I have a bride to wed.”

  And to make my own.

  I swallow back the last of my glass and set it down, nodding at my friends before I sweep from the room to prepare.

  I have a bride to wed, and to claim.

  I have a wedding bed to stain with the mark of her innocence, and a fertile womb to fill with my heir.

  My blood roars as I storm for my quarters as the seconds tick by.

  Soon, she’ll be mine.

  Chapter 7

  Una

  It’s over so quickly, it feels like the blink of an eye. One minute I’m merely betrothed to him, and the next, the priest is clasping our hands together, binding them in cloth, and pronouncing us man and wife.

  And then, in an instant, I’m married.

  …To him.

  My pulse races as the priest finishes his words, my heart pounding. We stand, and when Hamish pulls me to him and kisses me slow and hard, right there in front of everyone as we stand at that alter, I shiver.

  …But then, it’s not our first kiss, is it?

  Except, the kisses before—however illicit, and sinful, and wrong, felt hot and fierce. Now, I don’t feel what I felt before. Now, there’s just a coldness to the kiss, my body stiff and my nerves steeled as Gwendolyn’s words slice through me for the thousandth time since she spoke them.

  “Silly little girl. You’re his new little toy, for now. But trust me. Once he grows bored of a simple little country girl like you, you’ll be replaced. Maybe by me, maybe by a new plaything.”

  Hamish kisses me, and I know I should be feeling the fire and passion in that kiss—our first as man and wife—but I don’t. And when he pulls away, I can see the shadow cross his face before I look away, avoiding his eyes.

  …Ailith was right. I’ve read too many books. And real life is not like that.

  I know I shouldn’t care. I mean, it’s not like I imagined fairytale romance when I was told I’d be marrying a man I don’t know, because it’d been chosen for me. And yet, I do. I care, and it stings knowing how… how…

  I frown.

  How disposable I am.

  “And now!” Lord Malcolm McAuley, one of Hamish’s—my husband’s—friends roars, as he stands. “Now, we feast!”

  Hamish takes my hand, my billowing white dress streaming behind me as we walk back down the aisle of the chapel.

  * * *

  Like the ceremony, the feast passes by in a blur. My stomach is in knots, my head lost somewhere as I smile mechanically at strangers, friends, and family alike who stop by the master table at the front of the hall to congratulate me. I’m numb as my parents hug me, my mother crying tears of happiness. All three of my friends sit with me for a while of course—and even though I never do, I eagerly take the goblet of wine from Cat when she offers, slugging the sweet red liquid down quickly as she arches a brow at me.

  “Some courage for later?”

  I blush, heat rushing through me. Before earlier, yes. Before coming crashing into Hamish in the bathhouse, the thought of what’s to come after the feast would have terrified me. Because I know what comes after—after comes sharing his bed and giving him my everything. Except, I’m not scared, not after the taste of his touches and kisses earlier.

  …I’m excited.

  It’s not nerves that has my fingers toying together, my pulse racing, and my bottom lip worrying between my teeth. It’s anticipation.

  Cat shoves more wine my way as Rhona slides a hand to squeeze mine.

  “I’ve heard it doesn’t hurt if you drink goat’s milk before you—”

  “Rhona?” I smile at her. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Oh yes you will,” Cat murmurs, blushing as she nods across the table to where Hamish is having a drink with some of his advisors and friends. He looks positively regal—his tartan shall draped over one muscled shoulder, his tunic beneath it open down the front of his powerful chest. His bare arms flex, the tattoos from foreign lands rippling on his skin as he takes a swig from his glass. One of the men he’s standing with says something that makes him laugh, and I shiver, heat teasing through me as I watch his gorgeous face pull into a smile.

  Cat arches a brow, eyes darting back to me as she grins.

  “You’re going to be a lot more than fine with a man like that.”

  “Catriona!” Ailith gasps, smacking Cat on the hand. But Cat just laughs, winking at me.

  “What? I can’t tell her that she’s married a gorgeous husband? As if she doesn’t already know that?”

  I roll my eyes as Ailith goes red, looking away.

  “Oh, don’t worry, Ail. There’s more than one handsome lord here tonight.” Cat grins, poking Ailith. “For instance, like the one staring at you right now.”

  All four of us swivel our heads without a trace of subtly to see the tall, roguish-looking and yet extremely handsome dark-haired man staring at Ailith with piercing blue eyes. Ailith immediately goes bright red and yanks her eyes away.

  Cat giggles. “That’s Malcolm McAuley, lord of Falmer Island.” She pokes a teasing finger at Ailith. “Why you tempting little minx, you!”

  “Cat!” Ailith hisses, her face flushed. “I am betrothed.”

  Rhona snorts. “Yeah but not to a man who looks like that. Or a man who looks at you like that.”

  Ailith grabs my glass of wine and takes a big swig from it before shaking her head. “Well don’t look back!”

  We’re all still giggling when suddenly, my friends go silent, their eyes going wide as they stare past me.

  “My queen.”

  God.

  That deep, powerful voice of his rumbles through me, making my heart jump into my throat and making every inch of my skin tingle. I take a shaky breath, swallowing before I stand, and slowly turn. My heart flips again as I drag my gaze up his huge, muscled body, taking all of him in as I sweep my eyes up to his fierce, piercing gaze.

  “It’s time for us to go.”

  Heat throbs through me, making my legs quiver. I remember that I’m still angry at what I now know about this whole arrangement—that I’m just one of a string of women he’s either been with or will be with. And yet, it’s so hard to be mad when those beautifully fierce eyes burn into mine.

  …Which makes me furious, even if he’s got my body trembling for him.

  Hamish reaches out, his large, powerful hand taking mine and making me shiver as he closes it around mine.

  “Let’s go, little queen,” he purrs quietly, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I can hear my friends whispering to each other behind me, but I don’t look back as I let him pull me away from the table, and then from the hall. He leads me down passages, and up winding stone stairs until suddenly, we’re at the door to his chambers.

  “Come with me, Una,” he purrs into my ear from behind, making me gasp audibly as he reaches past me to swing the heavy wooden door wide. Inside, the cavern of a room is bathed in firelight from a crackling fire in the hearth. A huge, four-post bed commands one wall, and it’s there that my eyes land.

  And I tremble.

  We both step into the room, and when the door shuts heavily behind us, suddenly, my nerves break.

  “I’m not some conquest, you know!” I snap, whirling at him, my hands planted on my hips as I glare up into his handsome face.

  Hamish arches a brow, eyeing me.

  “A conquest?” His brow furrows, and his head slowly shakes. “No, my little queen. You’re the only conquest.”

  His words give me pause, but I whirl, still fuming as I stalk into the room. I hear him follow, and I whirl to face him again.

  “So, it’s true then? I’m a battle for you to win? A challenge for you to claim for what, bragging rights? One more notch on your—”

  “What you are, Una,” he growls lowly, his voice edged like a sword as his eyes blaze brightly in the firelight.

  “What you are is everything to me. You, and you alone. Notches?” His eyes narrow, his jaw clenching. “There are no notches in this room, angel. Just you and I.”

  We stare at each other, the tension thick in the air as fire sparks between our eyes. Until finally, with a huff and roll of my eyes, I march for the door, brushing past him.

  “I won’t play games with you, my lord,” I hiss through my teeth as I reach for the door. “What happened before was—”

  I gasp as his hand slams flat on the door over my shoulder, keeping it firmly shut as my hand yanks at the handle. I turn, my heart jumping into my throat and my eyes going wide at the sheer power in his face as he looms over me, both hands on the door, pinning me between him and it. His chest heaves, his jaw grinding as his eyes blaze into mine.

  “What happened before was like nothing else I’ve ever known,” he growls fiercely. “I may have been out of line coming to you like that before we were wed, but I regret none of it, nor will I apologize for wanting you. For craving you, my queen. For lusting after my wife.”

  The breath catches on my lips, my chest rising and falling quickly as I shiver under that fierce gaze.

  “As I said,” I spit back. “I am not a conquest.”

  His jaw tightens as he leans closer, eyes darting over mine.

  “You,” he growls, his eyes flashing.

  “Me what,” I snap.

  “You vex me,” he mutters.

  He brings one hand up, and when he cups my jaw softly, running his thumb just beneath my bottom lip, I shiver as something wicked and hot teases through me.

  …He does something to me.

  I don’t even know what it is, but there’s something about this man that does something powerful and something wicked to me. He ignites something dark inside of me and makes me want to throw caution to the wind. Or do wild, sinful things like what we did earlier, when he ran his hands over me and used his tongue to make me… well, explode.

  I blush fiercely at the thought, my mind instantly sinking back into the flashbacks of before. But suddenly, the images change, and instead of remembering the passionate kisses and the wicked touch of his big hands, it’s something else that comes to mind.

  Gwendolyn. Gorgeous, cruel Gwendolyn and the words that cut right through me. Those words ripple through me again, and suddenly, I’m pulling back from his hand, shaking my head.

  “Why me?” I whisper softly.

  Hamish frowns.

  “What do you mean, why you?”

  “I mean that I have no lands, no titles, no—”

  “Because you captured my heart, Una.”

  The room goes still at his words, and my heart jumps into my throat.

  “Because you drew me in like nothing else in this world,” he growls, leaning into me. “Months ago, I saw you at the spring festival in Gowlyn. I saw you, and I knew you’d be mine.”

  I swallow thickly, panting and wanting to just fall into him like I did before. But I shake my head, dropping my eyes.

  “As a second choice, you mean.”

  He frowns. “No. As an only choice.”

  My head slowly shakes. “Yes, I was. I was your second choice, wasn’t I?”

  His frown deepens, something dark flashing over his eyes. “You were not.”

  Suddenly, he pauses, and his brow arches as a smile teases his lips.

  “Ahhh, I know what this is.” He clears his throat.

  “You met Gwendolyn.”

  My temper flares, my lips pursing together as I glare daggers at him.

  “Yes, I guess I did meet Gwendolyn.”

  Hamish starts to chuckle, and I hiss, pushing roughly past him as my temper flares.

  “And I’m glad you find that amusing, my lord!” I spit back at him over my shoulder.

  “I do,” he says with a hearty laugh. “Not for the reasons why you think, though.” He sighs heavily as I stare into the fireplace, my back to him.

  “Una.”

  I clench my jaw.

  “Una,” he growls, making me shiver.

  “Look at me, Una.”

  I swallow, wanting to fight him. But slowly, I turn, the scowl etched across my face.

  “She’s… how do I put this nicely.” He strokes his chin. “She’s delusional, Una. She’s pretended to be married to many men, myself included. She’s even already actually married. The poor bastard is a ship’s captain abroad.”

  I chew at my lip, eyeing him as my fingers toy with the waist tie around my dress.

  “You’re not… I mean, you and her—”

  “No,” he growls, his face darkening. “Gods no.” Fire blazes in his eyes, and my breath catches as he marches over to me. Those big, powerful hands circle my waist, making me whimper softly as the heat blazes through me.

  “There’s only you, my queen,” he growls, pulling me against his rock-hard body as one hand slides up to cup my jaw, tilting my head up. “There is and only ever will be you.”

  He leans in, and when his lips crush to mine, it’s like the whole world goes up in flames around me. I moan into his kiss, losing myself and letting go of all the doubts and jealousy that’s been searing into me all afternoon. I fall against his chest, my hands sliding up his forearms as he sweeps me into him and kisses me like he’s never going to stop. Until my toes curl. Until my blood runs hot like fire. Until a forbidden, naughty heat blooms between my thighs and sizzles over my skin.

  “And now, my queen,” Hamish purrs against my lips. He kisses me softly, this time sucking my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling at it before he pulls away.

  “Take off your dress.”

  I whimper, shivering as his words melt over me.

  “And if I say n—”

  “Take off your fucking dress,” he commands, the growl and the tone of his voice setting a blaze inside of me, making me bite my lip to stop the whimper from tumbling out.

  “Take off your dress, lay on our bed, and spread those pretty thighs wide,” he growls, his thumb brushing my jaw as his eyes burn fiercely into mine.

  “Because tonight, I’m making you mine.”

  Chapter 8

  Hamish

  She may be a vexing little tease, but gods does she drive me wild. It’s the fire inside of her—that fierceness. She’s got a warrior spirit burning in her, and it draws me in like nothing I’ve ever known. I kiss her there in our—our—bed chambers, in front of the fire, and I know beyond any doubt how right a choice I made.

  I know in an instant that I’d give up everything for her—lands, titles, honor. All of it. And here she is, right in front of me, looking at me with those fierce and yet gentle eyes.

  My queen. My one and only. My everything.

  I swoop into her with a growl, taking her breath away as my lips crush to hers. One hand grabs her hip and the other slides up the nape of her neck into those long red locks. I tangle my fingers in her hair, gripping her tight and keeping her lips pressed to mine as I hungrily tease my tongue across them. Una moans, opening her mouth for me and letting me taste her.

  My skin burns for her. My cock aches to taste the honeyed sweetness between her thighs. My balls swell, anxious to fill her with my seed over and over again.

  Our tongues duel, breath panting together as I hold her tight to me. I can feel her writhe against my body, her hips moving slowly in time with our tongues, and I groan as my fingers dig into her hip, encouraging the movement.

  Slowly, we come away panting, Una’s face flushed and her eyes blazing with heat.

  “Show me,” I whisper fiercely—the words a reminder of our previous encounter in the baths, and I can see that she knows it. She blushes, her gaze hungry as she levels it at me.

  “And you, my…” she bites her lip. “My husband?”

  The grin spreads over my face as she turns my demands around on me.

  “And me what, little queen,” I growl, my hand reaching up to touch her chin.

  She swallows, her face pink and flushed in the flickering firelight.

  “Show me,” she whispers.

  “Show you what.”

  She trembles, blushing redder.

  “Show me…” she trials off, her hands twisting together. “You know.”

  “You want to see me?”

  She bites her lip, nodding as her eyes spark.

  I grin wolfishly, and even if teasing her more could be fun, I can think of much more fun things to do with my new bride on our wedding night. I shrug my shawl off my shoulder, letting it drop before I reach down and pull my tunic out from the waist of my kilt. I yank it over my head in one motion, tossing it aside as I stand before her. Una gasps quietly, her eyes trailing over my muscles—lingering on the scars and tattoo ink as her breath catches. Her hand reaches out, hesitating for a second inches from my skin.

  I step into her, and her hand presses to my chest.

  “My lord,” she whispers heatedly, her hand sliding over me, fingers tracing my skin as I growl lowly. My hands slide to my kilt, loosening the ties, and Una’s breath catches sharply. Her eyes drop, an eagerness in them that gets my blood pounding as I finish loosening my kilt and pull it open.

  The tartan drops to the ground, and my thick, heavy cock springs free between us. Una gaps, a soft moaning sound humming in her throat as her mouth opens and her eyes lock onto my swollen thickness.

  “My God…” she whimpers.

  “Take off your dress, my love,” I growl. “Let me see my bride.”

  She blushes, pulling back from me and letting her hands hesitantly move to the tie at the front of the white gown. Her eyes are still locked on my cock, and as she’s starts to tug at the bow holding her dress together, I reach down and wrap a fist around myself. Una moans quietly, her cheeks burning hot as I stroke my cock, watching her undress.

  The tie catches, knotted awkwardly, and she pauses, frowning as she fumbles to get it undone.

  “Let me,” I growl, moving into her and gently pushing her hands away. She swallows, nodding and trembling slightly as my hands replace hers. My strong fingers yank at the knot until it finally gives, the ties falling to her side. Her dress falls open, catching at her nipples before I growl and push it the rest of the way open with my fingers. It slips from her shoulders, and soundlessly drops to the floor like a pure white puddle around her feet. And then, she’s bare for me.

 

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