Page 46 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
“Ye look pretty handsome yerself,” she returned.
That was an understatement. Magnus, despite his attire, was every bit the warrior today—a tall and sturdy figure. He exuded a quiet strength, and Ciara couldn’t take her eyes off him, either. His long hair fell loose but was pushed behind his ears so she could still see all of his tanned face.
Once again, she was struck by the fact that he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and that shock never seemed to fully leave her.
He suddenly broke eye contact and grumbled, “I look like me faither.”
Ciara studied him for a moment, realizing the weight of his comment. She saw the resemblance, sure, but she would never compare the two, not truly, especially not now that she knew him.
“I met yer faither once, ye ken? And ye might look similar at first glance, but anyone who kens ye can see ye are nothin’ alike. There’s a kindness in ye that yer faither never had. It’s in yer eyes,” she whispered.
Magnus was watching her as she spoke, his expression turning soft and hopeful, with the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He took her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her wrists. “Thank ye, lass,” he said quietly.
The priest between them cleared his throat, and they stopped their whispered conversation with sheepish smiles.
“Sorry,” Ciara murmured, and he waved her off.
“Let’s begin,” he said to the room.
Ciara and Magnus turned their gazes back to each other, still holding hands. The priest was speaking, addressing them and their gathered families, but Ciara only had eyes for her groom. The Gaelic words that the priest was uttering were probably profound and important, but they were lost to her.
If not for the grounding warmth of Magnus’s hands, she feared she would get lost in his forest-green eyes. Her heart was pounding deafeningly, and she was sure the wedding guests could hear it, but Magnus just squeezed her hands tightly, a silent promise of protection.
“I, Magnus, of Clan MacLeon, stand before ye, Ciara…” Magnus finally began saying his vows, his deep voice commanding the attention of the room, his tone unwavering.
Ciara sucked in a breath at the weight of the moment.
The vows he spoke, the solemn promises, rang out in the quiet room. Each one chipped even further away at the wordfriendin her mind. And when he finally slipped the metal ring on her finger, there was no room left in her thoughts for friendship.
With a trembling voice, Ciara echoed his vows.
“I, Ciara of Clan Gunn, stand before ye, Magnus. In the presence of our kin, I promise to honor and cherish ye, to stand by yer side forever…”
She continued to speak the vows, meaning every word. And when she finally slid the ring on Magnus’s finger, she felt the weight of the commitment they made to each other.
The priest blessed their union, and a shiver ran through Ciara, despite the warmth of the room.
Magnus was herhusbandnow. They were bound by this sacred bond, forever, evidenced by their matching rings. For someone who had never imagined she’d be wed, the ceremony felt far more important than she could have ever imagined.
It certainly did not feel like two friends standing up there. Nor did it feel like two people making a sacrifice for their clans and their families.
No, that was a wedding between a man and a woman, and Ciara wantedeverythingthat that entailed.
She was not so inexperienced that she didn’t know what was expected of a husband and his wife on their wedding night. And she wanted that, wanted to cement this union in every way possible.
* * *
“What is it?” Ciara asked.
Magnus realized he’d been staring down at the woman in his arms, hiswife, with awe. He still couldn’t quite believe she was his. Even if he never had her in all the ways he wanted, she was still his wife, and that meant more to him than he ever thought it would.
He had felt it in those charged moments as they stood across from each other. The whole world had seemed to hold its breath as they pledged themselves to each other.
Ciara’s soft, lilting voice as she vowed to stand by his side for eternity would be forever etched into his memory.
“Nothin’,” he breathed as he twirled them.
