Page 96 of The Defiance of a Scottish Heart
Sloan grinned. “I believe there was a betrothal agreement, wasn’t there, Da?”
“Aye, there was. And I expect MacVey here to honor it.” But Dermot was smiling—really smiling—for the first time since Mama’s death.
Taskill’s arms tightened around Sheona’s waist. “I’ll marry her right now if she’ll have me.”
“Now?” Sheona pulled back to look at him. “That’s a bit rushed, don’t you think?”
“I’ve waited five years for you.” His eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way she’d never seen. “I’m done waiting. But if you need time—”
“I don’t.” She cupped his face in her hands, marveling at the freedom to touch him like this. To look at him without hiding. To love him without fear. “I don’t need time. I just need you.”
“Then you have me.” He caught one of her hands and pressed a kiss to her palm. “All of me. For as long as you’ll keep me.”
“Forever, then.”
“Forever,” he agreed, and pulled her close again.
This time when he kissed her, it was tender and slow, a seal on the promise they’d just made. His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her loosened braid, while his other arm wrapped around her waist as if he’d never let go.
Sheona melted into him, into the warmth and strength and love of him. She’d dreamed of this moment—of being held by Taskill MacVey, of hearing him say he loved her, of kissing himwithout reservation or fear—but the reality was so much better than any dream.
Because it was real. He was real. This love between them—this fierce, impossible, beautiful love—was real.
When they finally parted, both breathless and smiling, Taskill rested his forehead against hers once more. “No more running.”
“No more hiding.”
“No more distance.”
“Just us.” She smiled up at him. “You and me, together.”
“You and me,” he echoed. Then his expression turned serious. “I meant what I said, Sheona. I want to marry you as soon as possible. I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours. I want—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I want to spend the rest of my life proving that I’m worthy of you.”
“You already have.” She rose on her toes to kiss him softly. “You came for me. You fought for me. You loved me even when you thought you shouldn’t. That’s all I ever needed.”
“Marry me now.” It wasn’t a question this time, but a plea. “Please. Let me stand before God and everyone and claim you as mine. Let me give you my name, my vows, my whole heart.”
“Yes.” The word came out choked with tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you. On the morrow, next week, whenever you want. Just don’t let go.”
“Never.” He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. “Never again.”
Around them, their clan and family cheered, but Sheona barely heard them. All she could feel was Taskill’s arms around her, his heart beating against hers, his love wrapping around her like the warmest plaid.
They’d fought so hard to get here—through misunderstanding and fear, through years of distance and weeks of danger. But they’d made it. Together.
And now, finally, they could stop fighting and justbe.
“Take me home,” she whispered against his lips.
“Home,” he repeated, and kissed her once more. “Wherever you are, that’s home.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Taskill
The group sat around the warm hearth at Clan MacLean that night, enjoying wine and a bit of Dermot’s finest brew. Lennox looked at his brother and said, “I can’t believe you took Sheona straight to the kirk and asked the priest to marry you right away.”
Taskill broke into a wide grin. “I love her. Things in my mind had cleared considerably on this journey, and I didn’t wish to wait.” He kissed Sheona’s cheek. “She was ready.”
