FicWad

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I refused to speak to him or even look at him during the ride. He filled up the carriage until I felt suffocated. Refusing to faint, I forced myself to breathe deep. He hopped out before the thing fully stopped, stuck the pistol into his belt and held out his hand to me. “I believe we have already provided sufficient a show. Shall we take this to a private battleground?”

“By all means.” I led the way inside and upstairs to my suite. He closed and locked the door behind us and in a trice I found myself lifted into his arms and carried to the bed. I began to tremble and knew he would feel it.

My back barely touched the mattress when his mouth covered mine, bold and possessive. He lifted my skirt and I gasped as his fingers parted my pantilettes, then my body. Wet, wet welcome met him. He growled, stroking up inside me, then rubbing slickly over the trigger of my lust. Lifting his head a bit, he murmured, “I know you’ve done this for yourself. Did you think of my lips on yours, my cock in you?”

The fight left me. I held his face in my hands, “Aye.”

“Tell me you’re sorry.”

I lifted my head to place brief kisses on his mouth and chin. “I panicked. Forgive me.”

“Ivy,” he groaned, “I forgive you.”

We worked in concert to free ourselves of clothing and I licked and kissed whatever skin came close enough. “Make love to me, please.”

“I must taste you first. I starve for it.” He shifted down my body and I held his head to me as he very aggressively helped himself. I almost climaxed and urged him up and over me. He obliged and we both shook as he slowly entered me. “Marry me, Ivy.” His black gaze held mine, imprisoned me in its will. Yet, I saw the tenderness there. “Let me devote myself to you.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “Aye, I will.” I clawed his back as he began to thrust.

“I have missed you to the point of pain.” He urged my legs higher around his waist, then braced his weight above me on stiffened arms. My orgasm began and I saw in his expression he knew. He put my calves up over his shoulders, caught my bottom in his hands and dragged me back to meet his hips as he shifted to kneel. My head and shoulders remained on the bed but naught else. In his upright position he controlled me completely.

I broke apart, begging to have him come inside me. He did not hesitate. His roar of pleasure and the powerful eruption within me mingled with my cries and the potent sensations buffeting me within.

#

Food, wine and wash water arrived mid afternoon along with Con’s trunks. For two days our meals arrived with chilled water and tea, wine and brandy, and twice a day bath water and fresh linens and cloths. A maid occasionally slipped wraithlike in and out to tend room duties.

On the third morning, we lie on our sides facing each other in the early light. I felt at peace and a little drowsy from two days of near constant sex.

“The ship I brought here is mine. We can load anything you wish to take.”

That brought me from my delicious semi-doze. “Take where?”

His brows lowered and in a tone of ‘where else’, replied, “Scotland.”

That damned burr curled around the word. “What are we doing sailing there?”

“My home is there.” Again the accent became stronger, I knew that signaled emotion with him. Usually that devil’s temper.

“My home is here.”
Muscles rippled along that implacable jaw. “You agreed to become my wife.”

I rolled up and onto my knees, anger spiking in my blood. “You asked to become my husband. You came to me. That is the precedent you set.”

“My livelihood lies there.”

“Wait a moment, you Scot git!” I hopped from bed. “If my wedding you means I resign my rights, then I retract my consent!” I heard my voice rising along with my rage and resentment.

“You mistake my meaning.” Something in the slow way he got out of bed should have alerted me I tread dangerous ground.

I stalked around to him. “Nay! At last I grasp it! You get me, I lose my freedom!”

“Ivy, you travel so much, I had no idea yet another place would upset you. You would be free to do as you will.”

Too incensed to simply back down, I picked up a porcelain pitcher of water from the table and hurled it at him.

He ducked the vessel adroitly, as the water emptied in a plume. “Cease your tantrum.”

“I shall show you a tantrum!” I screeched. In quick succession I threw plates and cups. When he ducked his way through the barrage, I shoved the table between us. He upended it out of his way with naught save an upward swat. Knowing I now fell within his grasp, I stood still as he stepped close, a tower of male power and vexation. I stared up at him. Unable to check my runaway tongue, I dared softly, “Naught left save a good beating of your intended chattel.”

Those black eyes changed at once. “I would sooner fall upon my sword. And I give you my word never to hinder you.”

My final defenses crumbled. I had exhausted my only rebellion in my fall into love. He had me on my hands and knees upon the bed in a heartbeat, his big cock slowly carving out a place for himself and his hands seeking all my most sensitive places. I did not doubt half the island heard my cries. And when I dropped my face to the bed, boneless from my violent satisfaction, I panted, “I love you.”

I would wait a bit longer to reveal my pregnancy.

CHAPTER TWENTY

We discussed everything from religion, his life in Scotland, what we wanted from life, to his expectation of trouble from my family.

Tracing my lips with his fingertips, Con said, “If you object altogether, I understand, and believe me when I say I need only you to be happy. But I would not mind children right away.”

“Me neither.” He would likely bellow when he learned I had fled him with a child of our making already growing inside me. I found myself reluctant to defend my actions. The matter would wait.

Later in the day, we decided to attend the evening meal like civilized people. Con helped me into one of my favorite gowns, placed the long chain of my miniature over my hand. I touched it and gasped in delight. “I thought it mayhaps lost to me.”

“I have carried it with my as a talisman against the loss of you.” He held a carefully preserved red rose bloom out in front of me. “I had that in my hand when I returned to find you gone. So, I pressed it, hoping I might gift you with it.”

I took it from him, turned and stood on tip-toe to kiss his freshly shaven jaw. “I promise never to run away from you, or my love for you ever again. You have my love and loyalty.”

He hugged me tightly to him. “By your pledge, I am made your most ardent slave. I love you more than my life, Ivy Garrett.” He kissed me, then loosened his hold and his lifted his head. “Let us adjourn below. I have the legendary El Pantara and the Savior of Porto Blanco to face.

I saw everyone gathered in the foyer and hall, chatting and laughing. My heart swelled, seeing them. I had new people to love. Our family continued to grow and strengthen. It filled me with pride. Con had my hand pressed to his arm with his hand atop. He walked beside me, tall and self-assured despite facing many he expected to attack him. I knew better. We Garretts did not love like that. We accepted each others’ choices, supported one another and lived life to the fullest measure.

Heads swiveled to watch us descend and a hush fell. I squeezed Con’s arm a bit in an intimate communication. Roth excused himself to Marcus, Corliss and his stunning intended. He, Jacque, Luc, Maman and Papa came to meet us.

I said, “Papa, Maman, my brothers, I wish you to meet Conall MacCormack.”

“Call me ‘Con’.” He bowed slightly without releasing his hold on me. “Apologies for my lack of manners. I would have had us meet as family already joined by wedlock. As it is, I have represented myself as one without the barest of couth.”

Roth chuckled and stepped forward. “I shall embrace you as a brother all the same, Con MacCormack.”

The meal began a little stilted. I listened with a lover’s adoring ear as he answered the abundant questions, revealing himself as essentially a shipbuilder from Scotland who had traveled a great deal, gone for schooling in England and had a Spanish mother.

Marcus asked, “Where exactly is your shipyard?”

“West Harbor,” Con replied, “Dysart in Firth. We maintain a lighthouse there and I retain fifty professional fighters to guard arriving ships and those traveling through. They pay for my protection or risk pirates or wreckers.”

I caught Diego’s gaze. He held silent in all this. I knew because he yet carried the burden of my secret. I would have to catch him alone and share the fact my Scot and I had arrived at the same place.

Etienne queried, “What traffics in that area?”

Con paused to pour wine for me. “Timber from the Baltic, coal to Copenhagen, linen cloth to Lieth, bricks, tiles, cheese and butter from Aberdeen.” He stopped again, holding my gaze as I sipped wine. It caused my belly to flutter and I became damp in my pantilettes. “Sometimes vessels blown off course require assistance.”

Papa spoke in a tone I recognized well. His hostility wafted just under his civilized rhetoric. “How enterprising of you.”

Cool and blunt, Con responded, “I understand you dabbled in a spate of enterprising as well.”

Maman almost strangled on her wine. She coughed and laughed. Beside her, Jasmine’s merry chuckle erupted. Mirth caught as a contagion. Uncle Etienne crowed and in his rogue’s fashion, even pointed at James. Diego and Walks Softly exchanged smiles. Corliss and Braxton traded looks. Marcus and Roth roared. Delia chortled. Jacque and Luc nudged one another in a fashion I knew well. Henry laughed until he dropped his fork into his glass and overturned it. Aunt Eza, continued to smile as she leapt to attend it.

My much-loved sire lowered his head for a moment. When he lifted it, he stared at my future husband and father of my unborn baby. “Conall ‘Con’ MacCormack, welcome to our family.”