Page 72 of Dark Side of the Laird
“Oh my God, Logan!” Tears welled in her eyes and I leapt to my feet, gathering her in my arms. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too. You’re my everything. You showed me how to love again, how to be strong. I can’t live without you.”
I swiped at the tears gathering on her cheeks and kissed her hard on the mouth. “As soon as we rise, we’ll make it happen.”
She beamed. “I wish it were morning already.”
My heart pounded, booming within my chest. “How should we pass the time?” I wiggled my eyebrows and gave her a wicked grin.
Emma winked naughtily. “I know several ways.” She turned and scurried toward the bed, jumping up onto it on all fours. Turning her head around toward me, she wiggled her arse. “Want to start here?”
Oh, Lord, did I ever.
Epilogue
Emma
With nervous excitement, I let Hilde and Agatha argue over who would braid my hair, and then which color ribbons they’d weave within it. Hilde wanted gold to reflect the highlights in my hair. Agatha wanted green to match my eyes. In the end, they chose both.
Another beautiful gown had been pulled from Logan’s foster mother’s chest—her wedding gown. It was elegant, gorgeous, and probably the prettiest dress I’d ever had. Made from ivory wool—like cashmere—seed pearls were clung to the neckline, wrists and hem by gilded thread. The bodice was fashioned from the clan’s colors—green and red with thin stripes of dark blue. I was mesmerized, and so were my two mother hens.
Hilde had returned with us just the day before, to Gealach Castle, and the two older women had not stopped bickering since meeting. About everything. Me. Logan. Food. Drinks. Clothing. It was ridiculous, but beneath all their bluster, I could see the beginnings of a dear friendship.
Logan’s body had healed, though I feared for his heart. I never doubted that he loved me. Never doubted for a second on that account, but since we’d rescued him from that dark dungeon, he’d scowled and brooded far more than he ever had before.
All of his broken bones, torn flesh and bruises, his weakened state, took weeks to heal, far longer than he wanted, but with both Hilde and I making him rest, he had no other choice. Well, that wasn’t really true. If he’d wanted to get up and walk out, I doubted there was anything the two of us could have done to stop him.
Half his guards remained behind at the tiny cottage deep in the woods that belonged to Hilde. There she’d whipped up her potions, lotions and ointments and sewn Logan up. With Hilde’s care and regular meals, Logan had mended. His body was riddled with new scars, but they were battle wounds he bore proudly, because he was still alive.
I was shocked to see that they bowed to me, not just Logan. They respected me. They trusted me. They looked up to me. Not something I’d ever expected. And it felt good. I’d wanted to be a part of them, hadn’t realized how much. Now I belonged. I had a family.
I was elated at finding Ewan healthy and walking around. Watching Logan and Ewan side by side looked like a pair that had walked from one end of the earth to the other. Both a little beat up and pale, but showing the world their strength, their passion for life and for their people.
But the most change came when Logan chose not to kill MacDonald when he could have. He proved that he was still deadly when he fought the man. As much as I’d seen. I ran from the room, but couldn’t keep completely away. I watched from one of the spy holes as Logan thwarted the asshole.
He’d not ended the man’s life, choosing peace. It made me smile. Logan really was trying to change his life. He wanted us to live peacefully in this new reign. And so it began.
In our chamber when Logan knelt down on his knee and proposed, his heartfelt confession had torn into me, flayed me open.
How could I ever deny him? Or myself?
Then we’d made love. We’d feasted. We’d danced. We rejoiced.
“All done, now, lass,” Agatha said.
“Aye, all done,” Hilde piped in.
I rolled my eyes and stood from the bench.
“Thank you.”
Someone knocked at the chamber door. Thank God, good timing. I could get away from these mother hens.
The older women rushed to the door and butted hips until one of them finally grasped the handle and opened it.
Ewan stood in the doorway looking in at the pair of them like they’d shape-shifted into monkeys.
“Ignore them,” I said. “They’ve been jockeying for power since we got back.”
All of them looked at me oddly, and I knew it was because they didn’t understand what jockeying meant, but I suspected they got the gist of it as the two older women both flicked their gazes away, a little embarrassed.
