Page 87 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

"You already asked me that, and I already said yes."

"While I had my dick inside you." He raised the ring to her eye level. "You deserve a genuine, romantic proposal. What do you say?"

"Yes. Again."

He plucked the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. "Now it's official. You're stuck with me, your ball and chain till death do us part."

"I like your balls. They're mine and only mine from this day forward."

Gavin picked her up, carried her to the side of the bed, and laid her down on the soft sheets with her head on the fluffy pillow. He devoured her with his eyes, admiring her body with a heated haze in his eyes, his attention exciting her skin with every sweep of his gaze.

She started to sit up.

He sat on the bed's edge, one hand on her knee. "You've inspired me to go talk to Rory tomorrow."

"How did I do that?"

"You encouraged me to talk to Calli, which wound up with me talking to Lachlan after that." He squeezed her knee. "And Lachlan convinced me I need to talk to Rory. It was like one big circle of pestering from the MacTaggarts."

Jamie levered up into a sitting position and placed her hand over his on her knee. "We do it because we love you."

"Lachlan loves me?" Gavin made a disgusted face. "Do I have to hug him now?"

"No," she said with a half-stifled laugh. "And don't tell Lachlan I included him in the group of MacTaggarts who love you. Don't tell Aidan either, he'll tease Lachlan about it forever. Aidan still calls Rory 'sweetie-pie' because Calli mentioned that Emery mentioned Rory's a sweetie-pie."

"That's one convoluted grapevine you guys have there." He slid his hand up her thigh, carrying her hand with it. "I might need some hot sex to reinvigorate me, so I have the energy to deal with the guy who goaded me into an argument at Thanksgiving."

"He did the same to me."

"I know, and tomorrow I'll find out why." He switched his hand position, holding hers beneath it on her own thigh, and moved their hands together until his fingers and hers grazed the hairs of her mound. "Tonight, I plan on celebrating our newly reaffirmed engagement. With lots of moaning and gasping from you. For hours and hours and hours."

For the rest of the night, he proved he hadn't been exaggerating. They made full use of the spacious suite at the Loch Fairbairn Inn — hour after hour.

Chapter Thirty

The next morning, Gavin drove Jamie back to the castle. The place was drowning in Christmas decor, everything from Santa Claus statues that danced and said "ho-ho-ho" to sprigs of holly and decorated trees on every floor. Gavin kissed Jamie goodbye in the vestibule. She headed into the ground floor to her bedroom, to change into fresh clothes. Though she'd offered to be his wingman —" wing-lassie," as she'd put it — during the meeting with Rory, Gavin had politely declined the offer and made her promise to stay away from Rory's office. Gavin didn't need his fiancée's help in dealing with her brother. He could handle this on his own, though he loved Jamie even more for wanting to stand beside him. This was one battle he had to fight alone.

He leaned out the vestibule doorway to watch her sashay down the hall, her round little ass swaying in time with her hips. Waking up with her this morning, with all those curves draped over him and her hair tickling his chest and his cheek, he'd experienced something he'd never known in all his life.

Absolute contentment.

Jamie veered into the dining room, out of sight.

Sighing with deep pleasure, he turned toward the spiral staircase. His gaze traveled up the steps toward the first-floor landing. Rory's office awaited him up there. He'd called this morning to ask if Rory had time to speak with him, and the guy had agreed without any argument or snide comments. He'd simply said, "Be here at ten a.m."

While Gavin drove the Mercedes — oh yeah, he got to drive Rory's car — Jamie had called Emery to tell her about the engagement ring. Emery's shriek had erupted from the phone's speaker and rattled Gavin's ears. Jamie had shrieked in response, all but deafening him. He didn't care. Seeing Jamie so happy made him happy. Ecstatic, actually. He hadn't seen Jamie like this in way too long. The old, ebullient Scottish lassie had returned.HisScottish lassie.

Footsteps on the stairs jerked him out of his reverie.

Trevor Langley waltzed down the spiral staircase, halting at the bottom. He aimed a smug smile at Gavin.

"You again," Gavin said. "Damn, you're worse than athlete's foot."

"Finally worked up the nerve to talk to Rory?" Trevor said. "I've been speaking to him for an hour. He doesn't seem at all frightening to me, but then, I'm not an American."

The English Ass said "American" like it was the worst insult imaginable. Well, to an arrogant prick like him it must seem that way. After all, no one on earth could compare to Sir Trevor Langley, at least in Sir Trevor Langley's eyes.

For the first time since Gavin had met the schmuck, he didn't feel the least bit irked by Trevor's insults. "That's right, I'm an American and proud of it. Winston Churchill's mother was American, you know. Isn't he, like, a hero to you Brits?" Gavin chuckled. "Your half-American icon."

---