Trouble with a Highland Bride by Amanda Forester

priest.
    Without warning, without invitation, Jack drew her close and kissed her so sweetly her head swam.
    David coughed, but Isabelle poked him in the ribs with an elbow.
    “They are married now,” she whispered.
    “Sorry, habit,” muttered David.
    “We should get back to the tournament,” reminded Isabelle. “I wager no one will be back in our private quarters for several hours.” She smiled at the newlyweds and gave them a wink.
    Jack took her hand. He smiled at her with a gleam in his dark eyes. Ripples of heat tingled down her spine as he led her back to the private solar. As promised, the bedchamber was empty, and from the muted cheers outside, Gwyn knew that they would have at least a few hours alone together.
    “I canna believe we are actually married,” exclaimed Gwyn.
    “I am rather surprised myself,” said Jack with something of a giddy smile. “There were a few times when I thought your brother was going to kill me.”
    “I fear he may have considered it,” admitted Gwyn.
    Jack’s eyebrows rose. “I’m glad he decided on a marriage and not a funeral. Especially when the funeral would have been mine.” He entwined his hands around her and pulled her close.
    She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around the neck of the man to whom she was now married. She still couldn’t quite believe it. They were married. They were truly married.
    Jack shifted, and she realized his foot must pain him. He was also most likely exhausted from the excitement of the day and his illness of only the day before.
    “Come, sit.” She motioned toward the large bed, and he did not have to be asked twice. They sat down atop an elaborate quilt.
    He began to kiss her, first on her forehead, then trailing kisses down her cheek to her lips. Gwyn wrapped her arms around his neck to return the kiss. This was right. This was where she was meant to be. She closed her eyes and gave herself to the experience. She felt floaty and weightless, as if all of the burdens and cares she had carried over the past several days had melted away, and all that was left was her and her love.
    He gently pushed her down on the bed until she was on her back. He lay down beside her, propped up on one elbow, his head on one hand, his other arm around her waist. Shivers ran down her spine as he slowly grazed one finger up the length of her arm and then down along the hemline of her bodice along her sensitive skin. She sucked in a deep breath as sparks coursed through her veins.
    The smile had drained from his face and was replaced with one of exquisite intensity. “Are you ready for this?” he asked in a low voice. “We can wait if you would rather. If you need more time, I can give you time. Or perhaps you’d like to see whether or not my uncles shall kill me today before we take this any further?”
    For once in her life, she was in complete peace. “I dinna need any more time, Jack. Ye are my husband, and I shall have ye.”
    The smile flashed across his face. “I’m so glad,” he whispered. “I’m so, so very glad.” He pulled her toward him even as he covered her and kissed her until her head swam. Her only defense was to kiss him back, and in that, she would give no quarter.
    She had long since stopped hearing the cheers of the crowd, but a new cry crashed into her consciousness most unwillingly, and she stopped to listen to what it was. Jack also paused, raising his head to listen to the strange new noise. It was the clamor of a crowd, but these were no longer cheers, these were angry cries—battle cries. Something was very wrong.
    Jack was off the bed in a flash. He limped quickly to a window and looked out.
    “What is it? What do you see?” Gwyn slid off the bed and ran to him.
    “I cannot see anything from this window.”
    “This way.” Gwyn grabbed his hand. “Up to the tower.” They ran as fast as they could with Jack’s injured foot to the top of the tower and looked down in the valley below. It was