by Lynsay Sands
“No,” he assured her. “I was bringing them along so you wouldn’t have to. I would never steal.”
“You’re a pirate, Vasco,” Jess pointed out with sudden amusement at the claim. “It’s kind of what you do, isn’t it?”
He merely shrugged at that, and then grinned and said, “Ye’re a fine one to talk. Ye’re a better thief than me.”
“Me?” she asked with amazement. “What did I steal?”
“The Notte’s heart for one,” he said lightly, and then added solemnly, “And mine.”
When Jess simply stared at him, not sure what to say to that, a crooked smile curved his lips and he reached out to caress her cheek gently. “We could have been good together, lass. I’d have treated ye like a princess.” His hand dropped away, as did the crooked smile. “Go on. There’s no use waiting on your things. There isn’t room in the rowboat for your luggage and all o’ you too. I’ll have one o’ the men row it over and deliver it to the hotel later.”
Jess nodded, but then hesitated, feeling like she should say something, but unsure how to apologize for not loving him, not even sure if she should.
Sighing, she simply reached out and squeezed his arm, then moved past him and toward Raffaele.
Epilogue
“Oh! I love this! Look, Jess.”
Jess smiled at Caro’s excitement. The woman was the wife of Raff’s cousin Christian, and she was a doll, Jess thought as she leaned to the side and peered at the magazine page Caro was pointing to. Jess’s eyes widened when she saw the dress that had excited the woman. A muted rose color, long, flowing, sleeveless, and with a V-neck, it was a beautiful gown that could be used by the bridesmaids for special occasions even after the wedding.
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a smile, handing her the sticky pad. “Definitely mark that one as a finalist.”
“I can’t believe how pretty bridesmaids dresses have gotten,” Lissianna said, shaking her head as she flipped through her own magazine. When Jess glanced to the blonde, who was a cousin to Raff by virtue of her mother, Marguerite, marrying his uncle Julius, the woman continued, “Jeez, I remember when they used to be these horrible poofy things in nasty colors that just screamed, The bride is determined we all look ugly next to her in the wedding pictures.”
“Oh, those are definitely still out there,” Rachel, Lissianna’s sister-in-law and another of Raff’s new cousins, assured her. “Jess and I saw some in the bridal store. It’s why she decided to look through magazines instead and order them.”
“Will we be able to get them in time?” Jeanne Louise, yet another cousin through marriage, asked with concern. “I mean, the wedding is only three months away.”
Jess grimaced. Jeanne Louise said that like it was just around the corner, but it seemed miles away to Jess. Which was kind of ironic when she’d squawked so much three months ago when Raffaele had insisted on marrying a year to the day from when they’d met. Knowing from helping with Krista’s wedding that there was scads to get done for a wedding, the thought of managing one in six months had put her in a panic. But with all the help she was getting from his aunt Marguerite and his other relatives in Canada, as well as Ildaria in Montana, who had become a dear friend, her to-do list for the wedding was clearing up shockingly fast. The only reason the bridesmaids’ dresses were even on the table still was that with everyone so busy it had been hard to get them all together at the same time, and there were several not here, including Ildaria who’d had to stay in Montana to work on a project for her Business course.
“We’ll find something we can get here in time for the wedding,” Lissianna said reassuringly. “Or we’ll hire someone to make them. Mom knows a really great seamstress.”
Jess smiled and glanced around at the women at the table. Her new family. Well, the Canadian branch of it. They were wonderful women. But then everyone she’d met so far through Raffaele was wonderful. It didn’t make up for eventually having to give up her old family, but that was a ways off yet. She had a while before the fact that she wasn’t aging would start to become obvious and she’d have to disappear. Ten years, Raffaele had said. Well, nine years and three months now, she supposed. The thought made her sad, but then she reminded herself that at least there wasn’t a single Allison among these people.
“Jess!”
Everyone at the table paused and glanced at each other at that shout from Raffaele.
“Jessica!”
“Uh-oh,” Rachel teased. “Sounds like there’s trouble in paradise.”
“Bet he just found out that you invited Vasco to the wedding,” Lissianna said with amusement.
“No,” Jess said with surprise. “How would he find out?”
“One of the guys,” Caro said with a slow nod of certainty. “They just can’t keep secrets.”
“No, they can’t,” Jeanne Louise agreed on a sigh. “Honestly, they gossip worse than old women.”
“Hmm.” Jess frowned slightly, but just shook her head and picked up her tea as she waited for Raffaele to find her. It had been nine months since she’d agreed to be Raffaele’s life mate, and they’d been together ever since. Literally together. They hadn’t been apart for more than an hour or two since that day. Jess hadn’t expected that. She’d thought they’d do the normal long-distance dating thing, and then move on to possibly one of them moving to live in the same country, and then moving in together, and marriage in whichever order it had come. But she hadn’t been factoring in the shared pleasure life mates enjoyed. It was as addictive as heroin was purported to be, and neither of them had been able to tear themselves away from the other. Heck, they’d found it difficult to drag themselves out of bed for most of the first three months and they’d only got out then so that Raffaele could turn her. Or, at least, Raffaele had got out of the bed then.
The turning had been an experience she’d like to say she wouldn’t soon forget, but she mostly had. While Jess had been told afterward that she’d screamed and thrashed in agony for three days during the turn, she didn’t recall that. Whatever the drugs were that Rachel had given her had been amazing. The only thing Jess recalled of the turning were terrible nightmares and feeling hot. She hadn’t told Raffaele that, though . . . something that came in handy at times like this. Guilt could be handy in an argument.
“Jessica.”
Turning her head, she smiled sweetly at Raffaele’s scowling face as he stormed into the kitchen. He really was upset. The man was seething with emotion, she noted with a slight frown, and watched him open his mouth, close it again, and then shake his head.
“What is it, love?” she asked, getting up to cross the room to him.
The moment she got close enough, he caught her hand and turned to head out of the kitchen, tugging her behind him.
“See you later,” Caro called on a laugh.
“Have fun,” Jeanne Louise added.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Rachel teased.
“Take it to your room so we aren’t tripping over you later,” Lissianna shouted as Raffaele dragged her up the hall.
Jess heard Raffaele growl under his breath at the teasing, and bit her lip to keep from laughing as he dragged her upstairs and straight to the room they were occupying while here visiting his Aunt Marguerite and Uncle Julius.
Leading her inside, he pushed the door closed and then turned on her. He glared for a full minute, and then finally growled, “You did not invite Vasco to our wedding. You didn’t. You just would not do that.”
Jess hesitated, and then reached up to toy with the buttons of his shirt as she admitted soothingly, “Of course I did.” When he opened his mouth to no doubt shout at her for it, she added quickly, “He was there at the beginning. He has to be at the wedding.”
“He was there at the beginning, trying to bed you,” he snapped.
Ignoring that, Jess added, “And he’s the reason we met.”
“Because I had to drag you out of a shark-infested ocean after you jumped ship to get away from him,” he growled.
“And he fetched you back to the ship so you could explain about immortals.”
“I was already at the ship,” he said succinctly. “He probably saw me coming, and just set out in the boat so he could claim he was going to fetch me and look like a good guy.”
“He helped you explain about immortals,” she reminded him gently.
“And slammed me every chance he got, still trying to seduce you to agree to be his life mate, rather than mine,” he ground out.
“And I want your aunt Marguerite to meet him and maybe find him a life mate so I don’t have to feel guilty about being so happy with you,” Jess said solemnly.
Raffaele opened his mouth, closed it, and then groaned and leaned his forehead on hers. “You’re going to kill me, woman.”
“Never,” she assured him. “I love you too much.”
A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he murmured, “I love you too.”
Pulling back, Jess beamed at him. “Does that mean you’re not angry anymore that I invited Vasco to the wedding?”
“Not quite,” he said dryly.
“Hmm.” Leaning into him, she let her lips hover by his as her hand drifted down to his groin, and then murmured against his mouth, “Perhaps if I showed you how much I love you?”
A groan sliding from his mouth, Raffaele claimed her lips, kissing her with a passion that hadn’t waned a drop in nine months. Then he broke the kiss, and scooped her up into his arms.
“One of these times, that isn’t going to work at easing my temper,” he warned as he carried her to the bed.
“Impossible,” she said with confidence.
“Yeah,” he agreed on a sigh.
“You know he probably won’t come anyway,” she said as he laid her in the bed.
Raffaele froze, bent over her and arched an eyebrow before saying, “Yes, he will.”
“Do you think so?” she asked dubiously.
“I know so,” he assured her, easing onto the bed next to her before saying dryly, “He’ll come just to get to look at you.” Grimacing, he added, “Driving me crazy will be a bonus.”
Jess laughed at the words, and cupped his face. Meeting his gaze, she said, “You shouldn’t let him bother you. Just remember that you’re the one I love and chose to be with, not him.”
“And I am grateful for it every day,” he told her solemnly before kissing her.
Announcement to The Wrong Highlander
Do you love Lynsay’s vampires?
If so, you do not want to miss her Highlanders!
Read on for a sneak peek
at her next sexy Scottish Highlander romance . . .
THE WRONG HIGHLANDER
Coming January 2019
The Wrong Highlander
Conran heard his brother Rory approaching before he ever spoke. The man had no idea how to move quietly. He stomped through the woods, snapping branches underfoot like it was his task in life to scare away all wildlife. He’d be murder on a hunt, Conran thought. Which was why he and his other brothers never took him with them when they went on one. Not that Rory would be interested in accompanying them anyway. He was the odd man out in the family—a healer rather than a warrior. Although, to be fair, he had been working out in the practice field of late, building up his strength and skills, he admitted to himself as Rory finally stumbled out into the clearing and greeted him with the question, “How did ye do?”
Conran turned from his saddlebag and stepped back to reveal the way it bulged. “I found loads of snapdragon, catnip, willow, feverfew and celandine poppy fer ye. Almost too much for me bag.”
“Celandine poppy?” Rory echoed, and shook his head with a smile. “Look at ye. Ye’re even learning the right kinds o’ weeds I need.”
Conran grimaced and turned back to continue trying to close his overfull saddlebag. “Aye, well, I’ve accompanied ye on enough o’ yer calls to heal others that I’ve picked up a thing or two.”
“Aye, ye have,” Rory agreed, crossing the clearing to join him. “More than I expected. Ye always seem to ken what I’ll need ere I ask fer it when ye accompany me to visit the ill and ailing. Ye’re something o’ a natural at healing, brother.”
Conran shook his head with amusement. “Dougall said the same thing about me and his horses, and Niels said it about his sheep and wool. The truth is, I’m just good at helping out me brothers. It’s made me a jack-o’-all-trades.”
“Ye’re selling yerself short, Conny,” Rory said solemnly. “I think the truth is that while each o’ us is very good at one thing, ye’re good at many.”
“Hmm. As I said, a jack-o’-all-trades. Sadly, I’m no’ a master of any though.” Finally managing to close the saddlebag, he sighed his relief and then glanced to Rory. “So, do ye feel like a stop at the waterfalls to clean up ere returning? I swear I’ve weeds and bugs up me butt from traipsing through the bushes and brambles.”
“Nay.” Rory shook his head with apparent regret. “I still need valerian and yarrow, and then I must stop in to see the innkeeper’s daughter. She’s fit to burst and likely to have her bairn any day now. I want to be sure all is well with her. Ye go ahead though. I ken ye planned to leave fer Drummond ere the nooning meal. I appreciate ye taking the time to help me search out medicinals first.”
“Always happy to help,” Conran said with a shrug, and then assured him, “I’ll have a quick wash in the falls, and then ride back to the keep to drop off the weeds before heading out.”
“Thank ye. I appreciate it,” Rory assured him as he mounted up.
“Me pleasure, brother.” Conran watched him ride off, and then withdrew the sword from his belt and affixed it to his horse, before removing his plaid and shirt. He was looking forward to a nice wash under the falls. Truly, it felt like he had bugs crawling all over his naked skin under the plaid he wore. Conran knew that wasn’t the case, and the feeling was just a result of being hot and sweaty in a wool plaid. Wading through the bugs and sending them flying from the bushes and plants he was harvesting hadn’t helped though. Aye, a nice cleanup in the falls was going to be a true pleasure. It would make a new man of him.
“Well, there’s his horse. Now, where is he?” Evina asked, her gaze sliding around the clearing and then to the river and waterfalls, which appeared empty.
“Mayhap he left his steed here while he searches for weeds.”
Evina narrowed her eyes in consideration at the suggestion from the man sitting astride the horse on her right. Donnan. He’d been the first at Maclean for fourteen years. There was no one she’d trust more to accompany her on this trip, except perhaps the man on her left, her cousin Gavin.
When she didn’t comment, Donnan pointed out, “The lad did say Rory Buchanan was out gathering weeds for his healing work. The area around here is rich with various plants. Mayhap he leaves his horse here as a main base and returns occasionally with his finds.”
Evina eyed the bulging saddlebag hanging from the side of the handsome beast across the clearing, and nodded. It seemed a good possibility. Although it did look to her as if he must be nearly finished with his weed-gathering expedition. In fact, unless he had a second bag that he was carrying with him, he should be done. There didn’t look to her to be room for even one more leaf, stem or root in the bag.
“Or no’,” Gavin murmured quietly.
Raising her eyebrows, Evina glanced to her cousin and then followed his direction to the water when he nodded that way.
At first, she didn’t see anything to explain his comment. There was nothing in the river itself. It wasn’t until Evina turned her gaze to the waterfall again that she saw what he’d spotted. The cliff the water fell from was a good twenty feet up. The water rained down in a white, frothy torrent that hid the rocks and anything else behind the sheet of water, and that was what she’d seen the first time. Now there appeared to be an elbow poking out of the water and someone moving around under the spray.
“Looks like we’ve found him,” Donnan said with amu
sement. “Do we wait for him to come out?”
Evina considered the matter briefly, but that didn’t really seem an option to her. Rory Buchanan might rush through his cleaning and be out quickly, but he could also piddle about in the falls for a good long time, but either way, every moment they wasted was one more during which her father lay dying.
“Nay. We fetch him out,” she said finally. “And we’ll no’ take nay for an answer.”
“Right,” Donnan said quietly, and then glanced past her to Gavin.
Following his gaze, Evina saw that the younger man was already dismounting. Once on the ground, her cousin quickly removed his sword and boots. When he reached for the pin of his plaid, Evina turned her head away and stared at the waterfalls instead to give him privacy. She used to change Gavin’s nappies and give him baths as a boy, but he wasn’t a child anymore. Besides, while she’d often been accused of being less than a lady, even she wouldn’t look on a bare-arsed man.
At least, not on purpose, Evina qualified when her gaze landed not on an elbow protruding from the falls now, but on a bare arse. That was all. The Buchanan had obviously turned under the water and bent over, presumably to wash his lower legs or feet, because while she could now see the outline of his legs through a very thin layer of foamy water, his behind was the only thing out of the spray and on display.
And a fine rounded rump it was too, Evina noted before movement drew her attention to Gavin as he headed determinedly toward the water. She looked away, but not before catching a glimpse of his back, legs and behind. Evina had always thought her cousin a well-built young man, and he did have a nice muscular chest and shoulders. He also had fine legs. Despite that though, he couldn’t compare with the Buchanan when it came to rumps. Gavin fell short when compared to the only part of the man she could really see. Her cousin’s behind was flat in comparison to the one sticking out of the waterfall.