Page 78 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Emery

That's how it went down according to my sources. People like to talk to me, what can I say? I listen and don't judge. Thanksgiving dinner continued after that without incident, everyone smiling, joking, and sharing stories. Even Rory relaxed after that, and his mommy told me about the time he tried to mediate a settlement between a puppy and a cat. He'd been eight years old at the time, and his efforts failed. Rory insisted it was the only time in his life that he lost a case. Based on the twinkle in his eyes, I decided he was fibbing.

Not that I cared if he didn't always succeed. Everybody failed now and then, and everyone made mistakes. That's a lesson Gavin and Jamie learned the hard way. The blissful couple had announced their engagement after dessert. The whole gang congratulated them, even Rory.

The clan have all gone home now — except for Jamie, who's still in residence at Dùndubhan along with her houseguest, Gavin. They hightailed it upstairs after making swift excuses the instant the last MacTaggart — Aidan, naturally — departed the premises. Rory and I had retired to our bedroom on the top floor. I slipped my satin nightie on over my head, feeling the slippery fabric glide over my skin while the torrid gaze of my husband steamed over me from behind. I knew this because I could see him in the mirror on the dresser.

Even I can't see out the back of my head.

I approached the bed where Rory lay on his back, buck naked, the length of his gorgeous body stretched across the length of the bed. He'd pulled back the covers and joined his hands under his head on the pillow. All those toned muscles and that lightly tanned skin made my mouth water. I always got lustful when Rory was nude. And when he was clothed. And when I talked to him on the phone and couldn't even see him.

Okay, I could admit it. I was incurably addicted to my husband.

"You know the rule," Rory said, "about wearing nighties to bed."

"That's one rule I enjoy. You get to strip me in any way you want." My husband could be very creative, one of my favorite things about him.

He frisked his hand over the mattress beside him, drawing big circles on it. "Come,m'eudail. Or rather, climb into bed so I can make you come."

A dirty trick calling me his darling in Gaelic. He knew I loved it. Undaunted, I planted my hands on my hips. "Oh, so you think you're getting lucky tonight after that display during our very first Thanksgiving dinner?"

Rory feigned innocence even better than Aidan. "What display?"

He knew damn well he had explaining to do. Serious explaining.

I braced a knee on the bed's edge, which caused my nightie to ride up and expose all of my thigh. Rory's gaze snapped to my groin, concealed by the satin. I set my palms on the mattress and leaned forward, knowing full well the nightie would sag and give him a clear view of my breasts. I was never above using lust to make my husband confess.

"You're going to tell me," I said, "why you picked a fight with Gavin. I think I know the answer, but I want to hear you say it."

"I'm sure you've figured out the answer, since no one knows me better." He scooted over a little, draping an arm above my pillow, an invitation to cuddle up to him. "Come here and I'll tell you, since you insist on having me speak the words."

Powerless to resist a cuddle with my hubby, I lay down on the bed beside him with my head cradled in the hollow of his shoulder. When he tucked me under his arm, I sighed with a kind of contentment I'd never known before Rory.

"Okay," I said, "I'm where you want me. Time to spill."

He stroked a fingertip up and down my arm. "I didn't pick a fight with Gavin for his sake. I did it for Jamie. She needed to stand up for herself and take the situation in hand. She's relied on me, Lachlan, and Aidan to handle her problems too many times. Jamie is a grown woman, not a child, and she doesn't need our interference anymore. But she wouldn't tell us so." He made a shoving gesture with his other hand. "I gave her a wee push."

"Aweepush?" I laughed and gave him a playful slug in the side. "You ticked her off so good she called you a bleeding bawbag. You told me before 'bawbag' is a reference to a man's testicles, and it's not a compliment."

"True. But extreme measures were required."

"Because you wanted to make sure she really loves Gavin, so she won't make another Trevor mistake."

"Aye." Rory kissed my forehead. "I realize you prefer a softer approach to problems, but sometimes a manly method is best. We are dealing with a man after all. The rammy with Gavin helped him too. He stood up to me, and he finally proposed to Jamie."

"While they were having sex in the ground-floor bathroom." I traced circles on Rory's tummy with one finger. "I suppose that's a step up from being handed a marriage contract in a suite at a five-star hotel after a one-night stand and being told you're signing up for sex slavery."

"Sex slavery? I seem to recall you seducing me repeatedly."

"Had to. Sweetie-pie, you were totally pent up."

"I'll concede the point." Rory cast me a sideways glance. "You know I always wanted you, not the contract."

"Yes, baby, I know." I sat up, and his hand skated down my back to land on my hip. "Please tell me your harassment of Gavin is over and done with. You got him riled up, he talked back to you, end of story. Right?"

My husband squished his lips together, eyes squinted.

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