by Elise Faber
And she wanted more than just a few stolen moments.
Biting her lip as she fantasized about spending a night stripping her fiancé naked and licking every inch of him, she ran her hands down the bodice of the dress one more time, loving the way it felt and yet knowing there was no way she could ever accept such a gift.
She turned and hugged Bridget, careful to not muss her carefully coiffed chignon. The older woman was beautiful with delicate features and black hair just barely streaked with gray. Her eyes were darker than Colin’s, more azure than sky blue.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “But I can’t. It’s too—”
Bridget pulled back, narrowing her eyes. “Cecilia, you will accept this.”
CeCe felt a frown pull her brows together, an odd beat in Bridget’s tone raising the hairs on her nape. “I’ve already bought a simple dress. This isn’t necessary and it’s . . . too expensive.”
Bridget studied her closely. “Well, it’s been bought and paid for,” she finally said. “So you either accept the gift or it goes to waste.”
“I—” she broke off. “I—”
Soft pink lips curved up as her soon-to-be mother-in-law placed her hands on CeCe’s shoulders. “Darling, you deserve a beautiful dress.” She chuckled and pointed to the space around them, the grand house that had been in the McGregor family for generations. “And, I think”—her voice dropped—“that we can afford one dress.”
Cecilia’s cheeks went red. It wasn’t that she didn’t know Colin’s family could afford the dress, but rather that she felt like she was taking advantage of their obvious wealth and generosity. They’d already moved her out of her room in the hostel and onto the family estate. They fed her, wouldn’t allow her to pay rent.
And now they were buying her wedding dress?
“I know you can afford it,” CeCe said. “You’ve been so incredibly amazing, but I can’t possibly repay you for something like this.”
Bridget tsked, wrapping warm arms around her and hugging her tight. “You can repay me by looking beautiful and radiant on your wedding day. You can repay me by making my son happy.”
CeCe felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. “Oh, Bridget, I feel so lucky to have found you.”
“I—”
“Did you give it—oooh!” Lana burst into Cecilia’s room, stopping in the open doorway. “It’s gorgeous.” Blue eyes so much like Colin’s met CeCe’s. “You’re beautiful.”
Bridget cackled, but when CeCe turned to see what was so funny, she was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’m blaming you for smearing my mascara,” she teased, but smiled and squeezed her hand. “You deserve this.”
“Yes!” Lana closed the door and flounced into the room, her brown ponytail flapping behind her petite curves. “You deserve every bit of this.” A beat as Cecilia tried to pinpoint the feeling in her gut that was saying something wasn’t quite right.
But it was surely just nerves. The wedding was only days away, and they’d waited to the last minute to spring this on her, probably because they’d known that she’d refuse the gift.
“I knew the crystals would be perfect,” Lana declared and hugged CeCe. “You’ll be the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
“How do you think I should wear my hair?” Cecilia asked Bridget, who began playing with different styles.
Lana plunked onto the edge of the bed. “CeCe?”
“Mmm,” she asked, trying to keep her head straight as Bridget began plaiting a braid around the crown of her head.
“Can I look at your sketchbook?” she asked. “I wanted to show that drawing of Abs to Father. I think his friend, Gavin Stewart, was looking for an artist to draw a portrait of his favorite hunting dog.”
CeCe smiled. “Of course. It’s in the top drawer of the nightstand.”
“Thanks!” The drawer squeaked as it opened and then there was the sound of pages turning. “Oh there it is,” she declared after a few minutes of searching for the sketch of her horse. “I love the way you captured his eyes.”
His slightly manic and almost out of control eyes, CeCe thought, but smiled when Lana held up the drawing.
“I’m going to go show this to Father.”
“Sounds—oh!”
“Sorry, darling,” Bridget said. “That too tight?”
Considering her scalp was burning like a mother, Cecilia carefully nodded. “Just a bit.”
Warm fingers soothed the spot. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.” CeCe turned her eyes to Lana, now waiting near the door, sketchbook in hand. “Feel free to borrow that,” she said with a grin. “I’ve got others.”
Thinking of the box of her favorite brand of sketchbooks Colin had shipped from the States made CeCe’s heart feel incredibly buoyant.
He was so thoughtful.
And he was going to be her husband in a few short days.
“There,” Bridget said, turning her back toward the mirror. “Look how beautiful you are. You have to accept the dress.”
Cecilia smiled at her reflection, touched deep, deep down in her heart. “Okay.”
“Great!” She clapped her hands together. “But, darling, I do have some bad news. I know you and Colin wanted to get married at the estate’s chapel, but with all the rain, we discovered a huge leak.” She met CeCe’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m so sorry, but it will need a whole new roof and it can’t wait.”
Cecilia’s smile fell. “Oh, no.”
“But the good news is that we have a sister chapel on our neighbors’, the Stewarts, estate. It’s almost identical and they offered to let you and Colin use it, if you’d like.”
“I’m sure that’s fine,” CeCe said. “The place is less important than the person, and I just can’t wait to marry Colin.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Bridget said, squeezing her shoulders. “If you’d like, my driver will take you over to their estate now. Olivia Stewart offered to show you the space.”
“Thank you. I’d like that.”
Cecilia smiled as Bridget helped her out of the gown and then left her to get dressed in some warm Highland clothes. The wind was downright bracing this time of year.
As she zipped up the white cover, shielding the crystals and lace and satin she would wear on her wedding day from prying eyes, Cecilia was more at peace than ever.
Dreams really did come true.
She was marrying into a wonderful family who’d all but adopted her.
Her mother-in-law was more mother than her own had ever been.
She felt appreciated and included and . . . loved.
And she had Colin, who was the gorgeous Scottish heir to a dukedom and so far above her that she never, ever could have believed he would want her.
Let alone for him to cherish her heart.
For him to allow her to own his in return.
She was living an absolute fairy tale.
Of course, she didn’t know at the time that the fairy tale she was living would only last another seventy-two hours . . .
Thirty-One
Cecilia, present day
* * *
Colin was quiet. Too quiet.
He’d come in a half hour before, his arms full of yummy-smelling baked goods from the restaurant near the lobby. He’d woken her with a gentle kiss and by waving a chocolate croissant under her nose.
But he’d been too quiet as he’d drunk a cup of coffee. All notes of teasing had disappeared, and it was making her uneasy.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he announced, pushing back his chair in an abrupt motion that made her jump.
“Okay,” she said, her heart picking up its pace.
Perhaps this was the moment he’d decide to get back on with his life.
Without her.
Well then, so what? She wasn’t that girl anymore. Her chin lifted, and she straightened her shoulders. If he wanted to go, then he could just let the door hit him on the ass—
He kissed her.
But . . . had he just said that?
Why? How?
Blowing out a breath, she shook her head then ate some more of her chocolate croissant. Not in confusion exactly, but definitely in bewilderment.
“I love you,” she murmured, touching her lips. “He loves me.”
And he’d walked away again.
Well, that wasn’t going to stop her. Not this time.
She put down the chocolate croissant—
Why did that make her giggle? But she could imagine a voice through a megaphone blaring, “Put down the chocolate croissant and go attack your boyfriend in the shower! He needs a blow job, STAT!”
Cecilia didn’t know what was wrong with Colin, what had happened overnight or earlier that morning, but he was off and unlike in the past, where she’d tiptoed around, afraid to rock the boat, she decided she wasn’t going to be in a relationship like that again. If they’d talked more, if she’d bent less, if they’d come together instead of drifting apart, things might have been different.
They might have still been together.
She stood and pushed back her chair.
And maybe not, maybe their marriage would have imploded in the end. But what CeCe was realizing with a growing certainty was that the past was the past and if she really did want to move forward with Colin in her life, then things between them were going to have to change.
Old patterns needed to break.
She stripped off her tank top, dropped her pajama pants to the floor, her underwear.
Naked, she pushed through the door to the bathroom.
Then froze.
Colin was fully dressed, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, his hands in his head, the shower on full blast and steam filling the space in little gray, damp curls.
He glanced up at her intrusion, his jaw dropping open even as his eyes went scorching hot. His gaze dipped to her breasts, lower.
And while her stomach clenched in return—this man made absolutely every cell in her body stand up and take notice—her mind was more concerned.
She sank to her knees, feeling the damp air curling around her skin, placing her palms on his knees, the fabric of his jeans almost rough against her bare skin.
“What is it, baby?” she asked, slipping closer when he didn’t touch her in return.
Nothing. Except for his eyes closing and a deep breath expanding then collapsing his lungs.
CeCe reached up and put a hand on his cheek. “Colin? Has something happened?”
His eyes flashed open. “I spoke to Ewan.”
Oh, fuck.
She wasn’t ready for this.
Oh God, she couldn’t face it. Not yet. Not when, despite the years, it was still a fresh and aching wound in her heart.
Not when she’d been so fucking stupid.
How could she have been so stupid?
“Uh—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, agony in every line of his expression.
Cecilia could have told him he was too angry, too drunk, too busy feeling betrayed to listen, but the truth was—
“You weren’t ready to hear it,” she said, keeping her tone gentle because now she saw that he hadn’t really wanted her to leave. They’d both been duped. “And I was hurting too much to realize that you wouldn’t have done that to me.” She sighed. “I should have fought for us. And . . . it doesn’t make any difference to what we’re building now. Not with us looking forward instead of back. I thought we could leave the past where it belonged.”
His fingers came up to grip her shoulders and though his tone was fierce, his touch was gentle. “Except your logic is flawed. We are both holding on to anger that is doing neither of us any favors.”
She paused and considered that. “What I feel for you isn’t anger.”
He stilled. “Then what is it that you feel?”
Love. But she was too scared to admit it.
“This,” she said, stretching up to kiss him rather than confessing her feelings.
Colin allowed her lips to briefly collide with his before he pushed her back. “That’s a distraction. We need—”
“No,” she said. “What I need is for you to press your body to mine and hold me close. I need your kisses to show me what I mean to you, I need your touches to ground me in the here and now. Words are so easy, don’t you see?” She dropped her head to his shoulder. “But actions . . . actions are everything. Please, Col. Please give me everything.”
He stood, helping her step into the shower before stripping off his clothes. “You already have it all,” he said and kissed her.
Water sluiced over their skin, warm enough in actuality but almost freezing cold in comparison to the heat of his body. Nothing felt as good as him pressed flush against her, hard where she was soft, spicy where she smelled sweet. He didn’t have the body of the gym rats she saw in Northern California, but his abs were hard and defined, and his pecs were squeezable to the nth degree.
So she indulged, palming them, loving the way he groaned as she ran her nails over his nipples.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath hot near her temple, his lips kissing the delicate skin there. “I don’t know how you can ever forgive me for what they did to you, for what I thought, for what I said.”
“Don’t—”
“I know. Actions.” Colin’s arms tightened around her. “But I have to say this. Yes, I was manipulated. Yes, they did a bang-up job of doing it. But, fuck, you were mine. I should—” He swallowed hard.
“I am yours, Colin McGregor.” Her lips curved. “Always. Even when I was fighting very hard against it, I could never deny this . . . this thing that ties us together. I knew it from the first time I saw your muddy boots on that hillside, stalking toward me, all brooding-hero-style”—she grinned up at him, relieved to see him smiling back—“and I know it in the man you are today. The one with agony in his eyes and regret in his voice. We both screwed up, but keeping hold of those old hurts will get us nowhere.”
“I could just throttle them—”
“Baby.” She rose on tiptoe, stared him in the eyes. “You know everything now. Can you let it go?”
He dropped his forehead to hers. “I’m so angry. We lost years because—”
“Because we couldn’t find the strength in our relationship to talk it out.” She brushed back a lock of his hair. “If we couldn’t even talk through our first major hurdle—and I don’t disagree it was a damned big one. But we didn’t let it bring us closer. Instead, the deception imploded everything we had, and I think that means we were too young and it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”
“It damn well would have,” he snapped.
She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know I’m just riding this wave of crystal clarity that has come six years too late, but no, I don’t think it would have. Sooner or later your family would have found a way to drive us apart.”
Colin didn’t say anything for a long moment, just held her tightly. But finally, he slowly exhaled and said, “You’re right.”
“Words a woman dreams to hear,” she deadpanned.
He released one hand from her back and used it to tip her chin up. He brushed a kiss against her lips. “You didn’t deserve any of the bad things that happened to you, and I will do my best to ensure every day from this one forward has something good in it.”
“As long as that something good involves you,” she said, closing her eyes and inhaling the clean, warm scent of him, “then I’m sold.”
“And this thing between us?” he teased. “As long as it involves that?”
“Shut it, mister.” She kissed his peck, flicked her tongue over one nipple, grinning when he moaned. “We can’t all be Lotharios spouting perfect romantic sentiments.
” He opened his mouth, but she rose up to slant her mouth across his. “Now show me exactly how romantic you can be right here in this shower.”
So he did.
Twice.
And when they fell into bed later that afternoon, the sky already dark, the stars blinking cheerfully down onto them, Cecilia fell asleep with a smile on her lips.
Thirty-Two
Cecilia, five years and nine months before
* * *
Today was her wedding day. Cecilia had woken up with a huge smile on her face just as the sun was rising and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep.
But that was okay. A day of new beginnings should really start with the sun’s rays just peeking over the hills.
There was a soft knock on the door, and she smiled when Bridget popped her head in. “You awake, darling?” she said. “The car will be here soon to take you to the church.”
CeCe nodded and set her breakfast tray aside. Which was a definite perk of living with the McGregors. A woman could get used to a warm croissant and a cup of tea being delivered upon waking every morning.
“I’m just about ready,” she said, pointing at the dress and her bag of toiletries. She’d do her hair and makeup at the chapel—and she’d do it herself, though Bridget had offered to hire stylists.
The dress was already more than enough.
“Did you finish packing for the honeymoon?” Bridget came and sat next to CeCe on the bed. “I know you think you’ll have time to pop up here after the wedding breakfast, but you really should just have your suitcase packed and stowed in the car. That way you can change, grab the car, and hop on the plane to paradise.” Warm fingers came up to tweak Cecilia’s nose. “I know you can’t wait to get out of here.”
CeCe cocked her head to the side. “Oh no! I love it here.” She grinned. “Though I am looking forward to some warmer weather for a little while. I don’t think my blood has thickened up enough for a Scottish winter. I need to get prepared.”