Page 90 of The Wrong Highlander (Highland Brides 7)

Conran covered her mouth quickly and glanced around as if expecting someone to appear in the empty room. Reassured that they were alone, he turned back and half whispered, “Wife, I’m a Highlander. And Highlanders don’t use that word in front of ladies. Me mother drummed that into me at a young age. We could say any other curse we wished, but no’ that one.”

“A Highlander,” Evina murmured with a small smile. “My Highlander.” Shaking her head then, she asked, “Is it no’ funny?”

“What?” he asked uncertainly.

“If I hadn’t kidnapped the wrong Highlander that day, we may ne’er ha’e met,” she pointed out.

Conran relaxed, no doubt relieved at the change of subject. But then he asked, “Are ye sorry?”

“That I kidnapped ye and no’ Rory?” she asked.

“Aye. But ’twas no’ kidnapping,” he reminded her. “At least, we’ll ne’er admit ’twas to our children.”

“Really? We can no’ tell them the truth o’ how we met?” she asked with surprise.

“Definitely no’. Especially if they are lasses,” he added grimly, and then said, “Now tell me. Are ye sorry ye kidnapped me and no’ Rory?”

“Nay,” she assured him. “I may have kidnapped the wrong Highlander, but ye were the right man fer me.”

“Oh, lass,” Conran sighed, pulling her into his arms. “I fear I love ye too.”

“And why do ye fear that?” she asked uncertainly as he began to press kisses along her throat.

“Because now I want to show ye just how much,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to cup her bottom and lift her against him until his hardness pressed between her legs.

“Aye, well, Lord Pleasure-Cock, ye’ll have to wait until after the wedding for that,” Aulay growled impatiently from the door. “The entire population o’ Maclean, plus yer brothers, sister and their mates, as well as the Sinclairs, are all waiting at the damned church fer ye and have been fer quite a while now. Get a move on, ye two.”

Sighing, Conran eased her back to the ground. “We’ll have to continue this later.”

Nodding, Evina let him take her arm and urge her toward the door.

“Did I mention how lovely ye look yet?” Conran asked as they stepped out into the hall.

“Nay,” she answered at once.

“Well, ye do. Ye quite take me breath away every time I look at ye, ye’re so lovely,” he assured her.

“Thank ye,” she murmured, and then eyed his face curiously, and asked, “Why are ye smiling so?”

“Aulay called me Lord Pleasure-Cock,” he reminded her, his grin widening.

“And?” she asked uncertainly.

“He’s ne’er going to let me live that down,” he explained.

“Ye do no’ seem upset,” she pointed out.

“Hell, no,” he said on a laugh. “They are all calling Greer Fretting Fiona since hearing Saidh say that about him. But I get Lord Pleasure-Cock. As brotherly torments go, ’tis a damned fine one. Do no’ tell him though. He might stop.”

“As ye wish,” she said with amusement.

“Ah, Evina,” he sighed, scooping her up in his arms to carry her down the stairs, “I kenned the minute I saw yer sword hilt swinging toward me head that ye were the woman fer me.”

“No, ye didn’t,” she protested as they reached the main floor and he headed for the keep doors.

“Aye, I did,” he assured her.

Evina chuckled and shook her head. “Ye’re a strange man, Conran Buchanan.”

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