The Laird’s Christmas Kiss (The Lairds Most Likely 2)

In a radiant glow of anticipation, Elspeth watched him lead the horse into a stall. As he performed the humdrum actions of caring for his mount, she wrapped her arms around herself. She felt ready to explode with joy. Nobody in the history of the world had ever been as happy as she was right now.

Through the open door, she saw how the light faded on the wild hills and a starlit night crept in. A night that promised untold pleasures.

She and Brody would spend the next three days alone here at Achnasheen, before he took her to her new home at Invermackie. While she was eager to see the place he spoke of with such love, right now, she looked forward even more to changing from bride to wife. Hunger for her husband had risen to such a pitch, that she feared she’d burst into flame the instant he touched her.

“What are ye thinking about?” Brody crossed the floor toward her, his long legs eating up the space between them.

“You. Me. Us.” Her blush burned in the cold air. “The fact that it’s a long winter night, and we’re going to spend it together.”

His soft laugh expressed equal measures of anticipation and appreciation. “I have plans for each and every hour. Starting now.”

He swung her into his arms. Her heart gave a great swoop as her feet left the ground. “Brody!”

“Whisht, mo chridhe. It’s good luck to carry the bride over the threshold.”

“Is it?” She curved one possessive hand around his neck.

He bent and kissed her quickly. “Och, it will be for us.”

She murmured with disappointment when he drew away without deepening the kiss. Then she rested her head on his chest as he carried her across the short, snowy distance to the hunting lodge. Pushing the door open involved some delicious juggling of his burden, before he stepped inside.

“Goodness me, it’s like something out of a dream,” she said, as she took in the opulent room with its four-poster bed, comfortable furniture, and blazing fire. A quick, comprehensive glance confirmed that Fergus’s retainers had fitted out the hunting lodge for the perfect honeymoon.

“Aye, it is. Fergus didn’t let me come in, the day he brought me here to show me the path and to ask if I wanted to use the cottage for our first few nights together.”

“Marina and Fergus have been very good to us.”

“Aye, they have.” Gently, Brody set her on her feet in front of the fire. “And I intend to be very good to you right now.”

When she stared up into his bright green eyes, the purposeful light there made her shiver with yearning—and nerves. She loved him, she wanted him, he’d already put his hands on most of her body. But here in this luxurious retreat, she was powerfully aware that she’d never given herself to a man before.

“Do ye want to rest?” He tugged the Girvan tartan from over his shoulder and tossed it across a chair. He dropped onto one of the leather couches and with impressive dispatch, hauled off his boots.

Transfixed, Elspeth stood on the red and blue Turkey carpet in the center of the room and stared at him as he started to undress. Even his feet were beautiful. Strong and graceful and long.

“Elspeth?” he asked, humor deepening the attractive creases around his eyes.

She pressed one hand to where her heart performed a wild reel, and she shifted from foot to foot in a lather of impatience and agitation. “No.”

He rose, fixing an unwavering regard on her that sent excitement rippling up and down her backbone. “Are ye hungry?”

“No,” she said, although she hadn’t done justice to the extravagant wedding breakfast that had emerged from the castle’s kitchens.

“Do ye want some privacy?”

Humor tugged at her lips, as she removed her gloves. The gold glint of her wedding ring filled her with pride. “Do you want to go back out into the snow?”

He didn’t smile. Over the last weeks, he’d leashed his hunger, but she saw that his control was coming to a rapid end. She gave another shiver.

“I suppose you’re a wee bit nervous.”

A soft huff of laughter escaped her. “Of course I’m nervous.”

“So I thought—”

She stepped into the shelter of his body and placed her hands flat on his broad chest. Beneath her palm, his heart thundered as fast and hard as hers did. She sucked in a breath that tasted of Brody. Horses. Leather. The open air. Healthy male. A faint hint of musk that betrayed his desire.

“You’re talking too much again, my love.” She tugged his loose white shirt free of the thick black belt at his waist.