LORD OF DUNKEATHE

by Margaret Moore

  Yet in spite of his determination, the sensation of her moist warmth was too much. He discovered he couldn't be patient after a month without her in his bed.

  So when she urged him to be faster, to push harder, he lost all pretext of restraint. With wild passion, burning need and unbridled urgency, he loved her. She arched and wrapped her legs about him, pulling him closer still. She raised herself and licked his nipple, then sucked it into her mouth.

  He felt the onward rush, the anticipation of release, and then, the sweet, swift ecstasy of climax. She fell back and grabbed the coverlet in her hands, her head turning from side to side as she, too, felt the explosive, throbbing finish.

  Groaning, spent, he kissed her, then collapsed against her sweat-slicked body. Panting, he lay there, until he felt her slowly stroking his hair.

  "Did it feel different?"

  He half opened his eyes to look at her. "Different?"

  "Now that we are husband and wife? Did making love feel any different?"

  He thought about it a moment, then smiled. "Every time I make love with you is better than the last." He toyed with a lock of her marvellous hair. "What about you? Was it different for you?"

  "Oh, yes."

  "How so?"

  "No guilt, no shame."

  "Ah." It must have been so difficult for her before, and he was ashamed to think how easy it had been for him.

  "I've upset you."

  "I was just realizing what a selfish lout I was. I should have sent you away that first night."

  "I'm glad you didn't. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here now."

  He moved away, and only then realized they'd made love on top of the covers. "I suppose I could have let you get under the sheets first," he said.

  "I was too preoccupied to notice," she said, smiling and slipping under the linen.

  He joined her and put his arm about her, so that her head rested on his chest. "I'm so happy, Riona, and so blessed. Yet it could have ended so badly, for you and for me. You might have been disgraced and shamed, and I could have wound up married to somebody else."

  "Let's thank God it didn't turn out that way." She sat up and regarded him gravely. "I've been keeping a secret from you, Nicholas. I was going to tell you later, after we'd been married a few more days, but I think I should tell you tonight."

  Worried, confused, wondering if there was something else he'd overlooked or ignored, he anxiously waited for her to continue.

  She smiled gloriously. "I'm with child."

  He was afraid he hadn't heard right, that his conversation with Henry had put thoughts into this head. "What did you say?"

  She kissed him on the mouth, then smiled. "I'm with child, Nicholas. You're going to be a father."

  Delighted, thrilled, excited in a whole new way, he grabbed her and held her close. "Riona, Riona," he cried softy. "A child!"

  "Our child," she said, looking up into his face. "Our first, I hope."

  Riona had never seen Nicholas smile as he did then. All the cares and worries, all the duties and responsibilities, the sternly commanding mien, completely disappeared, and he was a young man happy and in love.

  "Whatever more God brings us, or whatever else lies ahead, I can only thank Him for all that I've already received," he whispered tenderly. He caressed her cheek, and used the Scots

  endearment that his sister had taught him as he bent to kiss her again. "M'eudail."

  My love.

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