Ethan scowled. “How did you talk to Lily? She knows this from two days in Fiona’s company?”
“Women know things five seconds after knowing someone.” Ray’s lips lifted in a small smile. “She snuck out of the house and found me for, ah, a quick kiss.”
Ethan suspected it had been more than quick and more than a kiss, but that was typical of his siblings. Ray was right about marriages, though. Malloys did find the perfect people to marry. Was Fiona the wife for him?
He looked around the room, full of Malloys and their spouses. Even his aunt Josephine and uncle Declan had made it. The passel of children, cousins big and small, were outside playing with the abandon only young ones possessed. He caught Trevor’s eye and his younger brother grinned, surreptitiously pointing at Adelaide’s red tresses. Then Trevor winked, no doubt approving of the choice of redheaded brides.
There was no more time to contemplate what he was doing, because Fiona was there, on his father’s arm. She wore a beautiful gown of green, simple and elegant, fitted to her lush form perfectly. His knees knocked together as the enormity of what he was about to do weighed down on him.
Fiona was about to be his.
Fiona glanced around the crowded great room and noted the plethora of Malloys. Many of them had similar coloring, eyes and smiles. No children were in the house because there simply wasn’t room. They were a very fruitful family—they had definitely multiplied and, it appeared, happily so.
She shook hard enough that Mr. Malloy had to help her walk. He murmured words of encouragement in her ear as he delivered her to his son. Fiona’s stomach threatened to reveal the half a biscuit she’d consumed at Nicky’s insistence. Food was unappealing given the gravity of the life-changing event that was about to occur.
When had she ever imagined her life would take such a turn? All her life she’d been the extra person, she who never had anything of her own except herself. Although Mrs. Foster had been kind, she’d been very old when she took on the raising of the orphaned baby. Fiona had never been adopted as an orphan and struggled to find a place where she belonged. She had been grateful for what she’d been given, but now she was taking what she wanted.
Although her options were limited, accepting Ethan’s proposal had been her choice. No one had simply put her in a marriage and told her that was where she would live. She’d had a rush of power when she said yes. Starving or selling her body hadn’t been palatable options. She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking she would have gone that way. Still, she had chosen to be a wife.
The reality of what she was about to do made her throat close up. She stared at Ethan, so handsome in a white shirt and black vest. He even wore a string tie and pressed trousers. She hardly knew him. Did she want to marry a man when she didn’t even know his birthday?
“He’s a good man, honey. Give him a chance.” Mr. Malloy had seen her in Ethan’s shirt, and her disheveled state should have given him pause, but it hadn’t. The patriarch had been the one to push for marriage. She longed to ask him why, but her mouth was dry as dust.
They reached Ethan’s side too quickly. Then Mr. Malloy kissed her cheek and shook his son’s hand. Fiona stared at the big man who was about to marry her. He took her hand and she felt him tremble. Somehow knowing he was nervous made her feel better. She laced her fingers with his.
“I need to ask you something,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Anything.” He squeezed her hand.
“When’s your birthday?”
He smiled, his green eyes full of life. “June eleventh. You?”
“June eighteenth.” The idea their birthdays were a week apart seemed fitting. They could celebrate together this year and every year for the rest of her life. There might even be cake. Or a present.
Although the present she’d found in the snowstorm stood before her now, and was more valuable than anything else she would receive. Ever.
“Fee?” He rubbed her palm with his thumb. “Are you ready?”
Fiona’s smile started somewhere near Raleigh and traveled two thousand miles to her face. It broke through her life of mediocrity and nothing special to the sparkling future that lay before her. Right into the face of the handsome man holding her hand.
“Most definitely.”
They turned toward the young preacher, her heart light and her hopes high. The ceremony was over in minutes, a simple exchange of vows, and then Ethan kissed her. The familiarity of his lips felt right, and she allowed herself to be happy. She was now married and had a husband she could love.
Ethan’s mother found her and pulled her toward the kitchen with the other women while the men slapped her new husband on the shoulder, grinning like fools.
“Come, cherie, let us ready the food for supper. Then you and Ethan can be on your way home.” Francesca Malloy was tiny and curvy, and held the entire family in the palm of her small hand. Fiona topped her new mother-in-law by at least eight inches, making Fiona feel like a giant.
Nicky, Lily, Rebecca and Alex greeted her with smiles, hugs and kisses. Then they introduced her to Adelaide and Roslyn, who was heavy with child.
“Roslyn is carrying my first grandchild.” Nicky wrapped her arm around the dark-haired woman. “Tyler and I adopted her husband Noah many years ago. I couldn’t be more proud of both of them.” She kissed Roslyn’s forehead and the younger woman blushed.
The women went to work readying a feast of epic proportions. Fiona, growing up in an orphanage, had never seen so much food. They set up the enormous table with the food and stacks of plates. Fiona did what she could, but mostly the other ladies told her to sit and relax since it was her wedding day.
Mrs. Malloy stepped up with a cup of steaming liquid. “I thought you might want some coffee, cherie.”
Fiona gratefully accepted the cup. She took a sip and her eyes teared as the hot liquid burned a path to her throat. She glanced up at her mother-in-law’s smiling face. “There’s more than coffee in here.”
“Oui, but I think you need a little Irish whiskey to get through the day.”
Fiona didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her mother-in-law had given her coffee laced with whiskey. It tasted good and it was exactly what Fiona needed. Her frazzled nerves eased under the force of the liquor and the hot beverage.
The older woman pulled a chair up and sat beside her. “Many marriages begin on rocky ground, but once you find your footing, they are the most wondrous gift imaginable.”
“I hope you’re right, Mrs. Malloy. I really do.” Fiona had never had a true family, and now she had one bigger than the entire orphanage.
“Please call me Mama. You are now my daughter.” Mrs. Malloy smiled and patted her cheek.
Fiona’s throat tightened. Mama. She could hardly make her mouth form the word, much less accept the fact she had a mother to rely on along with the sisters who had already made her feel welcome. This was family. Her new family.
Mrs. Malloy continued. “You will be good for him. Ethan is the peacemaker in the family, but the most vulnerable. He lost himself in grief. Today I saw my son again, and not his ghost.”
Fiona didn’t know if she’d been responsible for that change, but the fact his mother had noticed it made it important. “What—” She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had taken up residence. “What about the fact he had to marry me? Doesn’t that, um, bother you?”
This was met with a laugh. “Do not think for a moment he was forced to marry you. Ethan does not do something unless he knows it is the right thing. My marriage was not conventional, nor was our courtship. We, ah, anticipated our vows long before he even asked me to marry him. My children have had varied paths on their journeys to find their mates.” Francesca shrugged. “Ethan was lucky enough to marry his childhood sweetheart, and now has the chance to find another love. This one for the rest of his life. You, Fiona, you.”
Oh, how she wanted to believe that, more than she wanted to take her next breath. If Ethan would lov
e her, she could be happy for the rest of her life as his wife. Fiona had already fallen a bit in love with him. Perhaps that was due in part to childish fantasies or the erotic dreams she had about him at night. Either way, she wanted to feel that love from him and for him.
So very much.
Chapter Seven
Ethan drove the carriage up to the front door and leaped down almost before he set the damn brake. His gut felt like a passel of frogs had taken up residence, jumping and hopping enough to make him dizzy with need. He helped Fiona down and opened the door for her. She turned to look at him, a question in her blue eyes.
“I’ll go take care of the carriage then.” Idiot that he was, he closed the door and ran back to the rig before she could speak.
He wasn’t a virgin, for God’s sake. Granted, he hadn’t made love with a woman in years. Although he’d almost been with Fiona. Almost.
Now tonight, the wait would be over. He remembered what went where, but being with Fiona brought to light the things he had forgotten. The sheer intimacy of the act, sharing skin, scent, space, all with a woman he hardly knew.
But his body knew her, based on his imaginative meanderings and the memory of her luscious body and soft lips. His body hardened at the very thought of touching her again. Ethan put the carriage away with considerably more speed than he had previously.
As he left the barn, his step quickened, and by the time he reached the front door, he was nearly running. His heart thumped against his ribs, and damn if he wasn’t fighting tingles. Tingles!
He stepped into the house with nervous energy, closing the door behind him, and found the kitchen empty. The bedroom door, however, was closed. He wiped his hands on his pants and tapped on the wood.
“Fiona?”
A rustling noise from within. “Give me one minute, please.”
Ethan pressed his forehead against the wall and counted to sixty, then tapped again. From nervous idiot to overanxious, horny devil in the space of ten minutes. He didn’t know which was worse.
The doorknob turned and she pulled it open just a few inches. Then he heard her dart across the floor. Maybe she was jumping into bed, too shy to let him see her. He hoped not, because he remembered what he had seen through his shirt in the firelight very, very clearly. Fiona was blessed with curves, and he itched to trace them, touch them, taste them.
“Ready. I think.” A nervous laugh burst from her throat.
He pushed away from the wall, let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding and opened the door wide. The light from a single lantern set a golden glow about the room. A new quilt covered the bed, one with pink, black and white patches. He didn’t know who’d made it, but he was glad to know a new quilt accompanied the new linens. It was a new marriage, a new beginning.
Instead of lying in the bed, she stood beside it, to his relief. His gaze roved over her hungrily, happily. She wore a blue nightdress that matched the color of her eyes. It cupped her delicious form, pushing up her bountiful breasts against the light pink lace that hid her nipples from view.
Her hair was unbound, ripples of red down her freckled shoulders. Its rich waves begged for his touch. A lock of hair hung near her right eye, and it quivered as she shifted from one foot to the other.
She was nervous, of course. So was he. Except Ethan was the experienced one, the man, who should be showing her the ways between men and women. He cleared his throat.
“You look beautiful.”
Fiona glanced down at herself. “Your sister-in-law made it.”
“Rebecca knows how to wield a needle.” He didn’t move toward her, afraid of scaring her away. His cock, however, had noticed her and was howling to be let loose. A steady thump throbbed through his body, threatening the buttons that held him in check.
“I’m glad you like it.” A shy smile. Then she moved toward him, her breasts swaying as she walked.
Mesmerized, he could only watch as she sashayed closer and closer. When she was mere inches away, she stopped and flipped her hair off her shoulder. Her nipples were erect, poking through the fabric, waving at him.
“Your sisters and sisters-in-law told me a lot of things I didn’t know.” She spoke in a soft, sultry tone. One that had every small hair on his body standing on end. “Things a wife should know.”
“Like what?” His voice almost squeaked. Holy hell.
She ran a finger up his chest, then down, close to his straining rod, then back up again. He gasped, needing air to put his scattered thoughts together.
“How to bring pleasure and how to receive it.” Her fingers shook, and he was glad to see she wasn’t as confident and worldly as she seemed.
Ethan reached for her, his hands rasping on the incredibly soft material. She was warm beneath his hands. He pulled her against his painfully hard body, and his body cried out in relief.
Yes, yes, yes.
She laced her fingers behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Still untutored, she made up for her lack of practice with sweet, pure passion. He lost himself in the wet heat of her mouth, their tongues dancing and twining against each other.
He groaned and pulled her closer to ease the ache. To his surprise, she pushed herself up even farther and wrapped her legs around his waist. The movement caused his straining cock to slam against her pulsing pussy. He almost came in his drawers.
What else had they taught her?
Fiona’s heart threatened to burst out of her chest. She had never felt so out of control or so excited. Her body knew his, at some deep level, and the combination of arousal and the rightness of what she was experiencing gave her courage.
The hard ridge of his cock pressed against that part of her aching for more. She squirmed, needing and wanting, almost panting. This was part of what she had been told to expect, but they hadn’t told her how intense it would be.
His hands cupped her behind, squeezing the globes she had always considered too large. His big hands made her feel perfectly sized for the first time in her life. He broke the kiss and sucked in a loud breath.
“Hell’s bells, Fee.” He kissed his way across her jaw to her ear. His teeth closed around the lobe, sending a zing down her body. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
“Then don’t.” Her voice was breathy, so unlike her usual tone.
He carried her to the bed and laid her down with more gentleness than she expected. He ran his hands down her body as he went, paying special attention to her nipples, then down to her pussy and legs, all the way to her feet. His smile made the feminine side of her jump.
“I knew something of what you were hiding beneath that wool suit, but you are perfectly formed, Mrs. Malloy.”
Mrs. Malloy.
Her heart galloped at the mention of her new title coming from her new husband’s mouth. It was exhilarating and frightening.
“I think you need spectacles.” She managed a chuckle.
He shook his head. “Oh, no, I can see clearly.” His hands returned to her breasts, tweaking and plucking at the nipples.
She jumped and his grin widened.
“So responsive. So passionate.” He bent down and kissed the skin between her breasts, then nipped and lapped at the sides. She wanted his mouth on the aching peaks currently pointing at the sky. He hiked up her nightgown until it was at her hips. The cool air hit her heated core and she shivered. His hand followed the material until his questing fingers found the wetness that awaited him.
“Holy shit. No drawers either.” He caressed her with his talented fingers while his mouth finally found one of her nipples through the fabric.
Fiona thought she might die. Expire of pure pleasure on the spot.
“Sweeter than honey.” He nibbled and suckled at her. She squirmed and arched up into his touch.
“Please.” She reached for his buttons before he could protest. His cock landed in her hands with a hot weight. She was prepared for this, or at least she hoped she was. Her hand closed around his rod, squeezi
ng and moving with the thrust of his hips. The moisture at the tip beckoned her to taste, but that was for later, after they had truly become husband and wife.
“You’d best stop now or I won’t last.” He moved away, breathing hard, his face flushed. His gaze swept over her and she wondered what he saw.
Fiona reached for the hem of her nightgown. “Then you’d best get your clothes off and get in this bed with me.”
He watched as she revealed the rest of her body. She was surprised to see him lick his lips when she tossed the fabric to the floor. For better or for worse, she was who she was.
“Damn, Fee, you leave me without words.”
Her heart soared even as her body screamed for him to continue his ministrations, show her what it was to be a wife in truth.
He shucked his clothes in quick, jerky movements. His body was hardened by years of ranching, a perfect blend of muscle and sinew beneath golden skin. His chest had a fine dusting of brown hair that led down his flat belly to the nest of curls guarding his cock. It was hard, pulsing with life and desire.
She had touched him, known his flesh with her hands, and now she needed to know him with the rest of her body. Fiona held out her arms and he climbed on the bed, covering her with his hard warmth. The unique experience of touching someone from head to toe excited her. The hairs on his legs tickled her shins, and she had to suppress a giggle.
He looked into her eyes, and she noted his dilated pupils, the quick breathing and the sheen of perspiration on his skin. She was sure she looked much the same. If she grew any hotter, she might combust on the spot.
She reached up and touched his cheek. “Make me yours, Ethan.”
His smile touched her heart and her soul. “Happily.”
He nudged her thighs apart and his heavy arousal tapped against her skin. She pulled her knees up, widening herself for his entrance. Fiona tried to remember everything her new sisters-in-law had told her, but her mind was mixed up with her body’s needs.
The Present: The Malloy Family, Book 8.5 Page 6