by Eliza Knight
“More than happy. This is the beginning of something wonderful.”
“Aye, love, it really is.”
Though the attack had been terrifying, and the revelations after tragic, at least Bronwen knew who had murdered her parents and that they were being punished for it. Along with Hector, many of his associates had also been arrested. With them all behind bars, at least the people she knew from Tanner’s Close would be a little safer—at least for now, before another crime ring sprung up.
Bronwen no longer had to worry about the burden of her parents’ deaths or the men who’d harmed them coming after her. And best of all, she was married to the man she loved and would spend the rest of her life with.
When she’d boarded the ship nearly two months ago, scared and downtrodden, she’d not imagined she’d be boarding it again a married woman. And yet, that very afternoon, they walked up the gangplank with her cousins waving jovially behind them.
This time when they set sail, watching the docks slowly drift into the distance, Bronwen held tight to Euan’s hand, her strength, her heart.
“Shall we retire to our cabin?” he asked, his lips caressing the shell of her ear and shivers of anticipation covered her skin.
“Why, Captain, I thought ye were enjoying watching the shore disappear. What could we possibly have to do in the cabin?”
Euan grinned wolfishly and gave her a slow wink. “Och, lass, I can think of many things.”
Bronwen’s veins started to thrum. “Well, in that case, we ought to make haste.”
Hand in hand, they hurried to the cabin. They’d no sooner crossed the threshold than Euan was grabbing her about the waist and turning her back to the door. Fingers entwined with hers held her hands aloft as he captured her mouth for a searing kiss. She loved it when he kissed her like that, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
“I’ve never made love on a ship,” he said, biting her lower lip.
“Neither have I,” she laughed, pushing her hips into his.
“Let’s remedy that for the both of us.”
“With pleasure.” Bronwen kissed him with all she had and more, her fingers tightening on his.
Euan’s hard body aligned to hers, and she lifted her leg, hooking it around his hip to feel the hard heat of him against the crux of her body. His rigid arousal pressed to the place between her thighs that thrummed and came alive, and she wanted to wrench away their clothes. To feel his skin on hers. To feel him inside her.
Euan was a generous, enthusiastic lover.
He groaned as he kissed a path down her neck to the swell of her breasts peeping from the top of her gown. “I do no’ think I’ll ever get enough of ye.”
“I hope ye do no’,” she said with a moan as he pulled the fabric down with his teeth and captured an exposed nipple with his teeth.
“Never,” he murmured as he suckled at her breast and then kissed his way back to her mouth.
With his lips on hers, he rucked her gown up to her thigh that was curled around him, gripping her bare arse and then shifting his fingers over to slip inside her wet channel.
Bronwen cried out, wanting more, her hips rocking with his movements.
“Ye’re already wet for me,” he groaned.
“I am always,” she said with a gasp as his thumb rubbed against the pearl of her pleasure.
“Dear God, help me,” he growled.
With the flick of his hands, his kilt was flipped, and her skirts were out of the way. The heat of his hard shaft nudged at her opening, and then he was sinking deliciously inside her.
Bronwen hadn’t realized they could make love this way. Euan lifted her with a hand on either side of her arse and sank all the way to the hilt, both of them moaning at the pleasure of it.
She clung to him with her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his hip, feet hooked at his rear, spine flattened to the door as an anchor. He plunged inside her over and over, his mouth claiming hers, muffling their cries of bliss.
They were almost frantic in their need for each other. The banging of the door, she prayed, went unnoticed.
Just when she thought she was going to explode, he pulled out, releasing her and dropping to his knees.
“Euan, what are ye doing? Come back,” she demanded.
“Loving ye.” He lifted her skirts and buried his face between her thighs.
Bronwen grabbed hold of his shoulders as intense pleasure filled her. The wet, velvet heat of his tongue stroked her relentlessly until she couldn’t breathe. Until she couldn’t even stand and leaned over him, panting. This wicked way of loving, she’d accept every time.
And then there it was, the falling, the flying, her world coming apart as rapture filled her.
Before she even had a chance to recover, Euan stood and lifted her again to plunge inside her. He thrust hard, his face buried in her neck, the scent of her musk surrounding them both. Again and again, he thrust, and she held on, riding the waves of her release and wanting him to feel the same climax.
At last, Euan let out a guttural groan as he shuddered between her thighs, finding his rapture. Her name was on his lips, a steady chant, and then he was kissing her slow and languid as the waves ebbed.
They remained motionless as their breaths found a rhythm again, and then he slowly set her down.
“If only all ship voyages could be that pleasurable,” she murmured.
Euan grinned. “Maybe they will be?”
She laughed as she righted her skirts. Feeling the pins fall from her hair, she fixed it into a simple plait. “Well, I thoroughly enjoyed that lesson, husband. I think we should have another.”
“The bed?” he asked, wiggling his brows.
“I was thinking this table.” She sauntered over to the round oak table nailed to the floor and put her behind on it testing its weight. “What do ye think?”
“I think I’ve married the love of my life.” With a wicked grin, he rushed over to her, laid her back on the table and kissed her until she couldn’t see straight.
The next few weeks at Drum, Euan taught Bronwen to ride a horse, which she was a natural at. They went out on pleasure rides and visited the crofters, who fell in love with Bronwen for many of the reasons Euan had—namely, that she was so real and down to earth.
In the evenings after they dined, she would sing for him, and more than once, they ended up making love on the piano, on the floor, really wherever they could find that fit with the moment.
Because she was good with keeping up records and books, Euan showed her how to work the accounts for his tenants, and she took over that aspect of his duties. He was so glad to have married a woman who wanted to be his life partner; not what he thought he’d get, which was a lass who wanted to flit from one party to the next, to buy this gown and that bauble with no real concern for where the coin came from to purchase the items.
They truly were well matched in mind, body and soul.
Despite the gloriousness of their time together, both were eager to get back to the city and see Maggie, Amabel, Lillie, Skye, Esme and Raine. And what better way than by having a celebration?
Though, neither of them wanted a ball. They felt an intimate gathering with the friends Euan cherished and Bronwen had come to adore would be best.
And so it was, nearly a month and a half after they wed, Bronwen and Euan returned to Edinburgh in time for her birthday and the end of the season.
The house was alive with chatter as the sisters converged on them to enquire about Drum, if they enjoyed their time away, and giggled behind their hands at how Bronwen and Euan were always holding hands.
On behalf of herself and her sisters, Maggie presented Bronwen with a new frock to wear that evening for their dinner party. It was a lovely shimmering gold with silk thread embroidered in floral patterns.
“It’s beautiful,” Bronwen said, feeling a little teary-eyed at their thoughtfulness.
“It matches ye well,” Maggie said. “Both inside and out.”
“Ye are all too k
ind.”
They ushered her upstairs to fawn over her gown, and when she was finally ready, Euan entered, carrying a gift of his own.
“For ye, my wife.”
He handed her a blue velvet box, tied with a lighter blue silk ribbon.
Bronwen unraveled the ribbon and opened the box to reveal a diamond necklace and matching earbobs. “Oh my,” she breathed out. She’d never seen, let alone owned, anything so beautiful in her life.
“This is…stunning,” she said.
“And yet it pales in comparison to your beauty.” He winked down at her, still quite a charmer.
“Flattery will get ye quite a lot of places,” she said with a giggle. “Help me put it on?”
While she fastened the earbobs, Euan stepped behind her and clasped the necklace.
She stared into the looking glass, barely recognizing herself for who she used to be. So much had changed. Not just the coin or the title, but she herself. She was less cynical, more trusting, and she was happy.
“I feel like a princess,” she murmured.
“Ah, to me ye are a queen.” Euan pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Are ye ready to greet our guests?”
She glanced toward the bed. “I’d rather say here.”
Euan laughed. “As would I. Perhaps we’ll make it an early night then.”
Bronwen grinned up at him mischievously. “Or we could disappear after dinner for a few minutes.”
“An hour. I want to savor ye in nothing but these diamonds.”
“I am amenable to that,” she said with a wink.
They headed down the stairs to greet their guests as husband and wife with that plan in place.
They were welcomed by all their friends, well all but one, Malcolm was absent, having sent his regrets in quite a cryptic manner…
If you enjoyed TAMING THE SCOT, please spread the word by leaving a review on the site where you purchased your copy, or a reader site such as Goodreads! I love to hear from readers! Visit me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elizaknightfiction. I’m also on Instagram @ElizaKnightFiction and Twitter: @ElizaKnight Many thanks!
Stay tuned for more of Eliza’s brand new Scottish Regency series — SCOTS OF HONOR!
Highland war heroes rebuilding their lives grapple with ladies forging their own paths—who will win?
Regency Scotland comes alive in the vibrant and sexy new SCOTS OF HONOR series by USA Today bestselling author Eliza Knight. Scottish military heroes, who want nothing more than to lay low after the ravages of war in 19th century France, find their Highland homecomings vastly contradict their simple desires. Especially when they meet the feisty lasses who are tenacious enough to take them on, and show them just what they’ve been missing out of life. In battle they can’t be beaten, but in love, they all find the ultimate surrender.
* * *
Return of the Scot
The Scot is Hers
Taming the Scot
Want to read more Scottish romance novels by Eliza?
Check out her Stolen Bride Series!
* * *
The Highlander’s Temptation
The Highlander’s Reward
The Highlander’s Conquest
The Highlander’s Lady
The Highlander’s Warrior Bride
The Highlander’s Triumph
The Highlander’s Sin
Wild Highland Mistletoe (a Stolen Bride winter novella)
The Highlander’s Charm (a Stolen Bride novella)
A Kilted Christmas Wish – a contemporary Holiday spin-off
How about some fierce Highland rebels? Check out Eliza’s Prince Charlie’s Angels series!
The Rebel Wears Plaid
Truly Madly Plaid
You’ve Got Plaid
About the Author
Eliza Knight is a USA Today bestselling author of many historical adventures. Escape to Scotland for irresistible heroes, courageous heroines and daring escapades. Join Eliza (sometimes as E.) on riveting journeys that cross landscapes around the world. While not reading, writing or researching for her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…) she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping and visiting with family and friends. She lives atop a small mountain with her own knight in shining armor, three princesses and two very naughty puppies.
* * *
Visit Eliza at http://www.elizaknight.com or her historical blog History Undressed: www.historyundressed.com. Sign up for her newsletter to get news about books, events, contests and sneak peaks! http://eepurl.com/CSFFD