Highland Wedding
by Hannah Howell[ Romance ]
The vivid scar that spans Sir Iain MacLagan's cheek is a daily reminder of the wife he lost--and of the enemy that still stalks him. Commanded by Scotland's king to remarry in order to unite two powerful border clans, lain reluctantly weds Islaen MacRoth, a woman whose delicate appearance belies a playful, seductive nature that proves dangerously attractive to a man who has vowed never to jeopardize his heart, or his loved ones, again...Raised with eleven boisterous brothers, Islaen has little time for foolish romantic notions. Even so, she hoped for more than a forced marriage to a man who shares her bed, but not her life. Step by step, Islaen sets out to wear down Iain's defenses.
HIGHLAND WEDDING
Running his fingers down the laced front of her gown, he murmured, "This is lovely, but I think I like the other better."
"The other isnae a lady's night rail."
"'Tis simpler." He began to slowly undo her lacings.
"Ye didnae drink your wine," she squeaked.
"Why so tremulous, lass?" He brushed light kisses over the delicate lines of her face. "Ye are a maiden no longer."
"Aye, but last eve was, weel, different. We just went about it. T'was not so planned."
"Lovemaking is planned more oft than otherwise, espcially atween a mon and his wife."
"T'will take a wee bit of time to get used to it, though."
She trembled when he gently removed her gown, then tossed it away. When he pulled her body close to his, she moaned softly. The feel of their skin touching set her blood running hot. She smoothed her hands over his broad back, loving the feel of smooth skin stretched tautly over muscle.
When he kissed her, she clung to him and her lips parted willingly.
"Ye are a verra fast learner, lass," he rasped.
"And is that good?" she asked in a husky whisper.
"Ye willnae hear me complain," he murmured against her throat...
