Inside the chapel, Conall only had eyes for his bride, dressed in a dark satin sea-blue gown and slippers that matched her eyes. Her auburn hair was piled high on her head and threaded with jeweled sea-blue combs that had belonged to his mother Sorcha. She wore a strand of pearls about her throat. Those had also belonged to his mother, and he’d been waiting to give them to his bride.
Kat dazzled him and thrilled him and made his heart full.
He held her hands in his as he spoke his vows, his words a warm river of love and promise that flowed into her very being.
“There are different kinds of magic in the world, Kat. The magic of a fish flashing silver in a summer loch and the heather creeping purple about the hills and the Scottish wind on yer face. There is the magic of compassion, forgiveness, mercy, and hope. But there is an even stronger magic. It’s the magic of loving someone and having them love ye back.”
When they were pronounced man and wife, and their hands bound together by strips of plaid, Conall kissed her deeply.
Chapter 43
Her son was born in August, when the hills were starting to turn purple with heather and there would be weeks of stretching twilight. Kat held the lusty, bawling babe with a head of midnight-dark hair in her arms as they shared their first sunrise together. The world seemed to burst with joy outside the bedchamber window.
Conall, by her side, stared at her and the babe with wonder and love.
Conall kissed her forehead tenderly and Kat had the feeling she had finally come home. To a whole life. And nothing was half as important to her as the rich life she would live with Conall and her son, Calum Ragnar Nolan Maclean.
A Dark Highland Magic: Hot Highlands Romance Book 4 Page 21