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The Perfect Fit

Page 20

by Cait London


  Rather than reach for her, claim her roughly in his joy and anger, Nick thrust out his hand, the strung pearls gleaming on his broad palm. Silver touched them with her fingertips. “You strung them with fishing line and made a clasp from wire. I watched you last night, sitting naked beside me, in that slit of moonlight. You glanced at me now and then, fearing for me. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Taking care of others? That will have to change, Nick. You’ll have to let me do my share of the running, pampering you.”

  “Pampering,” he snorted arrogantly, as though she’d asked for him to wear daisies at a board meeting. “You go running off again and I’ll—”

  She smiled softly and touched his lips. “I know. Come after me. You’re so predictable.” She glanced downward at his aroused body. “Very predictable. I can count on you. I know from the way you’re sizzling now, that quick hard thrust of your hand through your hair, that you want to pick me up and carry me off to your lair—to have your way with me, of course...to our mutual satisfaction.”

  “You think so? Maybe I’ve got other plans.”

  “Change them.”

  Nick studied her, a smile lurking around his lips and in his eyes. “You’re feeling better. And cocky. I’m delicate right now. You know, the new groom thing. I can’t be easy.”

  “Oh. blast,” she said, teasing him. “You’re bashful.”

  The dark heated look he shot her told her that he wasn’t. He tilted his head, studying her. “What happened yesterday? You were quiet and shy of me.”

  “I’ve never had a husband before. The implications were overwhelming. I don’t know how to cook. Here I was, married, riding off on a horse behind an old-fashioned, very gallant man—my prince, so to speak...and I don’t know if I can hold up the wifely end. You surprised me, darling. I was expecting to gear up for the event, then make my takeover move. I was planning how to hunt you down and bag you. You didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Thanks,” he murmured dryly. He reached to place the pearls around her throat, and Silver placed her hands over his, trapping them at her throat, on the pearls. Nick searched her face, frustration on his expression. “Sweetheart, it’s important that you sort through this.”

  She placed her hand along his cheek. “I cried last night because it was all so lovely and I was leaving one life and beginning another. With you. Thank you for the wedding, for yesterday.”

  The pearls were warm from his hands and Nick bent slowly to give her a long, slow, tender kiss that caused her heart to stop, then flip-flop with joy. He’ll be a fine beast of a man, haughty and proud and strong as a bear...claiming her with wicked eyes and the pearls nestled in his hand If he places them upon her, warmed by his flesh, and gives her a sweet kiss, the pearls will be her undoing....

  She realized that she’d come undone the first moment she saw him standing in her shop, the Palladin guardian, the man sent to claim her. In a short time, Nick had undone the darkness shrouding her, giving her light and dreams and scents of more.... “Thank you for the mirror. I didn’t have anything for you.”

  “I wasn’t expecting a present,” Nick stated roughly.

  “But I’m giving you my heart, darling. It’s the only one I have. Please don’t refuse it.” Locking her gaze with his, Silver drew his hands to her face, kissing them. “Love me, Nick....”

  Epilogue

  “Aren’t the scents incredible?” Silver asked, settling back against Nick as they stood in the living room of Tallchief House.

  After a huge Christmas Eve dinner, the entire family, Tallchiefs and Palladins, had settled into the living room. Amid opened toys and handmade gifts and dressed in their kilts and tartans, with sleepy children in their arms waiting for Santa Claus. the Tallchiefs and the Palladins were at ease.

  The huge Christmas tree, the most beautiful one on Tallchief Mountain, had been selected earlier by a scouting party of women, out for a day of fun, away from worrying husbands and teething children. Draped in twinkling lights, ropes of cranberries and popcorn and an assortment of children’s ornaments, the tree still had room for the original ornaments. Una, Elizabeth, LaBelle and Pauline—the five Tallchiefs’ mother—had added their touches. The evening the tree had been decorated, the men had been too precise, and the wives had given up, exasperated.

  The winter wind howled around the log-and-stone home, but inside, before going to their own homes, the families had come together—the sons of Lloyd Palladin had made their peace, and the Tallchiefs, not unused to a hard life, had welcomed them.

  Nick cuddled Silver against him, nuzzling her glossy hair, longer now and as sleek as a raven’s wing. She sighed, contented with the scene before her, the dreams in front of her, and leaned back against him. The Montclair-Tallchief pearls gleamed on her white frilled blouse as she placed her hand over his large one that had slid beneath her tartan. Nick’s hand opened over their child, coming in the spring and nesting in the tiny taut mound of her stomach. Silver turned her head to kiss Nick’s jaw, and he moved slightly, meeting her lips in a long, sweet kiss that promised forever. Then Silver nuzzled Nick’s jaw, and he smiled, aware of her inhaling his scents. “Don’t start anything,” he warned, and knew that once they were home, he couldn’t refuse Silver—

  Her sensual smile set his heart racing. “You can’t hoard yourself from me and worry about our baby for months, Nick.”

  “You’re not going to promote Palladin’s Silver’s Signature Fragrance while—”

  Silver’s slender hand bearing the rubies intertwined in the Celtic design slid beneath the red suspender crossing his chest, resting on his white dress shirt. Nick, stunned as always when she touched him possessively, stopped talking and didn’t disguise the heat in his look at her. Silver smiled, a tender predator who knew her sizable and lovable prey. “I adore these and you know it. It’s your fault if you’re so tempting, not mine. Mamie agreed with me. You’ll take care of me and I’ll take care of you and the baby. Just as I did when you were going through morning sickness. The Palladin scent is the best work I’ve ever done, mostly because you wouldn’t let me settle for less. The formula captures a sensual excitement, a stirring subtlety of the Tallchiefs... it’s very feminine and timeless. I think I’m even more sensitive to scents when I’m pregnant, Nick, and definitely more creative. We’ll have to do this more than once, you know, the pregnancy thing. Mamie and I are already thinking about adding a black pearl line—”

  “I’m not happy about this,” Nick muttered, but gathered Silver closer.

  “You’ll be wonderful and you know it. And I have it from Demi and Fiona that Rafe and Joel didn’t fare that easily with morning sickness, either, but don’t you dare tease them,” she added. “Look—”

  The blazing fire in the rough-hewn fireplace lit the scene—tall, rugged men who had fought to keep the ones they loved safe, and the women who loved them, who gave them children and love. There were Duncan and Sybil, Calum and Talia—who preferred her Hessian boots to brogans, Birk towering over his petite curly-beaded wife, Lacy, Elspeth and Alek Petrovna—a man who had come hunting Elspetb—Fiona and Joel Palladin, Rafe and Demi Palladin. The five Tallchiefs had found their loves, their lives, their happiness, and with them, the Palladins. Children of all ages and sizes draped across their parents’ shoulders, and cradled in their arms—children with the black glossy hair of Tallchief and the gray eyes of Una, the Scotswoman, captive bride of Tallchief. Then there were children with brown wavy hair and startling dark green eyes, with tiny clefts in their chins, drowsy now with food and dreams of Santa Claus filling their Christmas stockings. Like a queen, Mamie sat Joel’s baby daughter and a teddy bear in her arms, her expression at peace, the shadows gone.

  With the sound of the crackling fire, the scents of love and his wife’s unique, incredible one curling around him, Nick met his brothers’ gaze, each filled with words that didn’t need to be said aloud—they’d found their lives, twined with the Tallchiefs, their dark legacy placed in the past.

 
Silver had found peace with Nick, sometimes uneasy and stormy as he worried about her and the baby, but a sturdy foundation and bond ran through the heated passion, the quiet loving. At times, she looked too long in a mirror, and Jasmine’s shadow swept across her face, then she’d turn to him and place her sister in another part of her heart, one to be remembered.

  Silver placed her hand on his chest and looked up into his eyes, whispering the legend that had brought them together. “He’ll be a fine beast of a man

  Nick snorted at that, smothering the grin inside him, for it wouldn’t do for his brothers to see him blush.

  “Haughty and proud and strong as a bear,” Silver continued and grinned as Nick’s blush began to rise. “You did test me, claim me with wicked eyes—such wicked, wicked, lovely eyes—and the pearls nestled in his hand If he places them upon her, warmed by his flesh and gives her a sweet kiss—” Silver kissed Nick softly, promising him her love. “The pearls will be her undoing. Then their hearts will join forever.”

  Nick inhaled slowly, treasuring the scent of a woman, his perfect fit, his love, his wife.

  Bestselling author Cait London revisits the

  powerfu! Blaylock family in her all-new,

  emotional MAN OF THE MONTH love story,

  Blaylock’s Bride,

  coming in April 1999 from Silhouette Desire.

  ISBN : 978-1-4592-6528-8

  THE PERFECT FIT

  Copyright © 1998 by Lois Kleinsasser

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under licence. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries

 

 

 


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